


Cicero

by hingabee, PunishedPyotr



Series: White Diamond [6]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: (no goats were harmed in the making of this fic), Age Difference, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheating, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Gaslighting, Goats, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jealousy, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Trauma, Multi, Murder, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 75,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hingabee/pseuds/hingabee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr
Summary: He only had himself to blame.
Relationships: Liquid Snake/Ocelot, Liquid Snake/Original Male Character(s), Liquid Snake/Psycho Mantis, Ocelot/Psycho Mantis, Psycho Mantis/Original Male Character(s)
Series: White Diamond [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/923049
Comments: 75
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> required reading: _Wherever I Go, I'll Make It Home_ (PunishedPyotr), "Рокси Харт и Вэлма Келли" 1, 2, 4, 5, and "Who Brought The Twine" in _Miscellany_ (PunishedPyotr), _sit down stand up_ (rubyfruitjungle) (not 'canon' but still important)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everybody say "thank you bee" because if she hadn't forced me to finish this fic it would still be in development hell uwu

Moscow. Late Afternoon.  
Bogomol’s empty khrushchyovka flat.

Ocelot leaned against the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Damn it,” he said out loud. He had no real way of knowing when Bogomol had even _left_ , but it had been roughly eighteen hours since he’d last seen Bogomol, so potentially he could have been on the other side of the world by now. Or at least out of the USSR.

That was assuming he was even still alive.

Why wouldn’t he at least take his toothbrush with him if he were just running away?

Ocelot closed his eyes. “ _Idiot,_ ” he hissed to himself. “You idiot.”

* * *

_И есть чем платить, но я не хочу…_

_Победы любой ценой._

_Я никому не хочу ставить ногу на грудь—_

_Я хотел бы остаться с тобой—-_

_Просто остаться с тобой…_

_Но высокая в небе звезда зовет меня в путь._

* * *

The muted roar of millions of minds was the first thing Bogomol became aware of, but he couldn’t focus, pick out any particular words or ideas. It was distracting but not deafening. Wherever he was right now, it was quiet. Was he alone?

The second thing Bogomol became aware of was that his chest hurt - a deep and powerful ache underlined by the feeling of having been stabbed about half a dozen times, and somebody was twisting each blade every time he inhaled. He was cold. He felt weak, and disoriented.

Bogomol coughed.

“Bogomol. You’re awake.”

He opened his eyes at the voice. He knew instinctually that he recognized it but it took him a second longer to process it; he turned his head to the side far enough to bring Ocelot into his field of vision. He felt colder. Ocelot was simultaneously the last person Bogomol wanted to see and the only person Bogomol would allow to see him like this.

Ocelot didn’t look pleased.

“Have you sobered up, then?” he said. His hair was wet and he had a towel around his shoulders, and his hands on his hips. “You know the Moskva River really isn’t the best place to go for a swim.”

“What…” Bogomol croaked, raising a trembling hand to his face. He coughed again, looking at Ocelot questioningly. “What is…?”

The corner of Ocelot’s mouth twitched. “Surgical mask,” he said. “I didn’t want to take the risk of putting your gas mask back on you, you’re liable to vomit in it and suffocate. And right now you need something with as much freedom to breathe as possible. Though I assume if you’ve managed to string two words together it’s at least effective as a stop-gap measure — which was exactly what I was hoping for.”

Bogomol nodded feebly. Ocelot talked too much. He’d never really noticed it before.

Ocelot turned around, started pacing. The clinking of his spurs was about the only physical sound in the room aside from Bogomol’s wheezy breathing. “We’re in my hotel room,” he answered Bogomol’s next question before he could ask it, “it was closer than your apartment, although I’m afraid I can’t replicate your _charming_ wallpaper. By rights you should be in a hospital right now, but I understand that you want to avoid medical settings. Or to be more specific, I don’t want you attempting suicide on me again.”

Bogomol winced. Right. Right, that was what…

“I’d been looking for you all evening since I realized you never showed up at the Lubyanka and found your apartment empty,” Ocelot said without turning around. “Eventually I came across an empty bottle of vodka and an abandoned gas mask on the trestle of the Saburovsky Rail Bridge. The second one, I mean. Then I happened to spot you floating in the river below and had no choice but to dive in after you, drag you out, and perform CPR on the shore. That’s part of the reason why your chest hurts, incidentally. You have a few broken ribs. No punctures, don’t worry - just be careful.”

“…” Bogomol put his hands over his mouth. “CPR? You mean you…?”

“Trust me,” Ocelot said dryly, glancing over his shoulder, “I found no romance in giving you mouth-to-mouth.”

Bogomol shifted uncomfortably in the bed, coughing again, then blinked as he realized something. “Ocelot, why am I naked?”

“River water’s cold even at this time of year, especially for someone with as little body fat as you do. At any rate I couldn’t just leave you in your wet clothes — nor did I have anything to change you into. Your clothes are drying in the bathroom. If you want to get up and walk around I suppose I can lend you something.”

Bogomol nodded silently, stifling another cough. He thought he should be wary of Ocelot’s intentions, especially after what had happened the previous night, but he supposed he did have a point about the wet clothes… at least, Ocelot had said it confidently, like it was the truth. And Bogomol was buried under a few thick blankets so it wasn’t like he was on display here.

There was a long pause, then Ocelot sighed. “We need to talk, don’t we?”

“Do we?”

“About last night.”

There was a painfully pregnant pause. Bogomol coughed again, this time a fit bad enough that he had to sit up and hunch over. It felt like the front of his surgical mask was all damp…

“Are you up for it right now?”

“Does it… matter if I am?”

Ocelot didn’t do anything for half a moment, then shook his head and sat on the side of the bed, still facing away from Bogomol.

“I know you won’t believe me,” he said, “but I didn’t mean for things to go that far.”

“…”

“I… slipped up. My self control failed me, and I miscalculated how you would react.” He paused again. “That’s why I came after you,” he went on. “I don’t just leave my mistakes be. I clean up any mess I make and I… am afraid this certainly qualifies.”

“What _were_ you planning?” Bogomol said.

“To teach you a lesson about offering sexual favors as repayment of debt. My _intention_ was to stop at the point that would frustrate and humiliate you the most. But I—“

“…starting thinking with your _prick_ instead of your brain,” Bogomol said sourly, glaring off to the side, then started coughing again.

Ocelot glanced at him impassively as the fit passed. “So how are you holding up? As far as I can tell you weren’t in the river for very long — not feeling particularly brain damaged, are you? Or are you just used to operating on reduced oxygen intake?”

He changed the subject… Bogomol refused to answer him.

“Bogomol?”

“I want to rest.”

“Then sleep.”

* * *

When Bogomol woke up again, Ocelot wasn’t there. The sun filtered through the hotel room’s drawn curtains - Bogomol hadn’t noticed that it was nighttime before, though the sun had gone down by the time he’d plucked up the nerve to give up and throw himself off the Saburovsky Bridge. After spending the entirety of the previous day drinking and daring himself to jump in front of one of the trains that periodically passed over it…

Uncoordinated, moving painfully, Bogomol slowly sat up and tugged the topmost blanket over to himself, tucking it around his shoulders. His whole body hurt, but if there was any upside to feeling like his lungs were full of sand and his broken ribs were razors… it was that the residual pain from the bruising (especially around his neck) that Ocelot had inflicted on him _that night_ was just a drop in a sea.

Ocelot had left a note on the bedside table. Bogomol picked it up and read it, cringing at the very first word — _Bogomolechik_. Up until very recently, Ocelot had only used the diminutive of his name when he wanted to remind Bogomol that he wasn’t exactly an adult… he was only about sixteen or seventeen, or thereabouts, with the maturity and emotional experience of a child, according to Ocelot.

Now that Bogomol knew Ocelot’s alleged intentions about that night, he could see why Ocelot had called him Bogomolechik throughout it. But it made him deeply uncomfortable now.

_Bogomolechik,_

_If you care at all, Kuznetsov is already dead. More to the point, I’ll handle the situation at the KGB. You wouldn’t wake up before I left so for today I’ll just say you’ve come down with some illness — when I return I expect you to be able to tell me if you’re going to return to the KGB or not._

_Even if you are returning to the KGB, I’ll still get some time off for you while you recover. Let me be clear here: You are NOT going back to the KGB or anywhere I don’t explicitly approve of until you have completely recovered from everything that’s happened this week. You can’t show yourself at the Lubyanka until there’s not even a hint that  
_ _1\. Kuznetsov did anything with you_  
_2._ **_I_ ** _did anything with you  
_ _3\. You took a swan-dive last night._

_Clearly I’ve overestimated your ability to handle these sorts of things already. I imagine you won’t feel up to going out anyway, but just in case you do: YOU ARE STAYING IN THAT HOTEL ROOM. Your clothes are still drying in the bathroom but if they’re still damp (your sweater especially) you’re free to look in my blue suitcase for a shirt; make sure you put everything back exactly as you found it. Don’t bother with the black suitcase, you won’t like what you find. The tap water’s perfectly potable and you can call the front desk for food if you get hungry (though I’m sure you won’t). Extra surgical masks I’ve put in the top drawer of this table. Your gas mask is by your clothes but I wouldn’t recommending putting it on unless you’re sure your coughing has died down, which I don’t anticipate happening today._

_There are a few books also in the blue suitcase, at the bottom, in case you’re capable of concentrating enough to read Dostoyevsky or Melville. Apart from that you’ll have to find your own way to stave off boredom. I’ll drop by your apartment on my way back from the Lubyanka tonight to get some of your things. In the meantime, behave yourself and don’t let yourself be seen by the hotel staff or guests._

_R.O._

Bogomol scowled behind his mask, throwing the note on the bedside table again. He supposed that leaving a note made sense, considering the circumstances, but there was no reason it had to cover the entire front of a sheet of paper with fussy instructions like Ocelot was Bogomol’s father or-— …bad thought. Very bad thought. Not right at all.

Sighing and coughing again, Bogomol got up and plodded over to the bathroom to check his clothes. He imagined just staying wrapped a blanket all day would be more physically comfortable, but he’d already spent _far_ too much time nude around Ocelot for his liking. His sweater was, as Ocelot predicted, still damp, and his shoes almost seemed like a lost cause, but his other clothes were dry if stiff and obviously dirty… he really didn’t want to wear these… well, that wasn’t exactly what he had come for, anyway.

(In passing Bogomol noticed himself in the mirror and dimly thought that he should shower at some point. He could see the shadow of silt from the river on his skin, and his hair was matted and heavy-looking. A small part of him was resentful that Ocelot hadn’t at least combed his hair while he was unconscious/sleeping, but the rest of him took one look at the vivd finger-shaped bruises ringing his neck and was glad he hadn’t.)

Bogomol picked up his pants and reached into the pockets, and upon finding them empty turned them inside-out completely. He blinked. Nothing. He looked around the bathroom, on the counter, in the tub, on the floor, in the trashcan. Nothing. Nothing, where was-? Bogomol chided himself to remain calm. If it wasn’t around here somewhere then it couldn’t be helped. It might have fallen out in the river. And anyway it was just a _photo_.

But _maybe Ocelot took it_ and Bogomol rushed back out of the bathroom, looking around the hotel room frantically. He was about to start turning the room upside-down when he noticed that Ocelot’s note had landed face-down when he’d dropped it, and there was something written on the back, too.

_P.S. Your pilfered photo of Eli is in the front of my copy of Brothers Karamazov. (It’s an English copy. Yellow cover.) It was soaked and crumpled, so I was drying it flat again._

“Why couldn’t you have just wrote that in the first place?” Bogomol said out loud, then turned around. Ocelot had two suitcases, an average-sized blue one and a smaller black one with a lock on it. Bogomol ignored the black one, opening the blue one and digging through it until he found a couple of books at the bottom of it, including the one with a yellow cover that had THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV printed across it in English. Bogomol briefly wondered why Ocelot even _had_ it in English when everyone knew Russian literature almost never translated well, but upon opening the front cover he saw a little paragraph of handwritten text with “Kaz” signed underneath it (dated 1979), so it must have been a gift.

Bogomol didn’t bother reading the writing, because right next to it was the picture he’d been looking for: the photo of Eli that he’d gotten from the SAS man when it first came out that Eli wasn’t going to be coming home. It wasn’t an easy photo to look at, even after this many months. Eli was a prisoner, blatantly being beaten and starved. He looked so… defeated. So unlike his usual self.

But it was all Bogomol really had left of him. So he’d carried him in his pocket as he wandered off to die.

Bogomol’s thoughts were interrupted by another coughing fit. He clutched Eli’s photo to his aching chest until it passed. When it was over, he looked down at Ocelot’s book. It was starting to dawn on him that he really didn’t have anything to do all day except read, but… trying to read with this much noise in his head… he felt he could barely manage a comic book, let alone a notoriously complex novel. Which was of course, Bogomol saw as he searched through Ocelot’s suitcase again, all Ocelot had to offer.

Keeping Eli’s photo for himself, Bogomol shrugged on one of Ocelot’s shirts (it hung off of him pathetically, but it was long enough that he wasn’t… exposed) then meekly put the suitcase back in order and stood. Ocelot was busy at the KGB, right? Even if “busy” just meant occupying office space while actually filing paperwork for Diamond Dogs. He had eyes everywhere but that was only metaphorical, surely he’d never know if Bogomol just stepped out into the hallway to get his bearings. He really didn’t know what part of the city Ocelot’s hotel was in, or even if he was still in Moscow…

There was a note taped to the door, too. Headed _Don’t even think about it, Bogomolechik_. Underneath it said that if Bogomol really needed something then he was to call Ocelot’s cellular phone, the number of which was provided below. Bogomol frowned at the door. Maybe it was a given that he’d want to leave? Or else Ocelot had this planned out so well that even if Bogomol did leave he’d just come after him, so there was no point… right?

He turned around. Maybe Ocelot had set things up so Bogomol was safe and protected trapped here, or maybe he just placed some token reminders and left everything else up to trust. Certainly he trusted Bogomol not to kill himself in his hotel room. There had been a razor on the sink - Bogomol could easily slit his wrists or his throat, or stick it into an electrical socket. And there was no end of creative ways he could kill himself using his psychic powers, even if he didn’t ignore Ocelot’s notes about staying here. Of course, Bogomol knew full well his only suicide options - the only ones he could bring himself to do - were the more passive ones… the ones where he laid down and waited for something to kill him… filling the bathtub and trying to drown himself again was an option, he supposed.

…no. Even if another chance at life had been given unwillingly, his will to die had drained into something more despondent. Living or dying didn’t matter anymore, he just wanted to lie down and not think or hear or feel. (Bogomol’s legs felt weak at the thought. He sat down on the floor, rubbing his neck, and coughed again.)

He wondered if Eli had felt it.

Another coughing fit passed and left him gasping for breath. Maybe he _should_ have gotten under the train’s wheels while he had the chance - but it was too late now. Right now he needed a distraction, from both his fate and Eli’s. Lacking anything else to do, he crawled over to Ocelot’s black suitcase and easily forced the lock with his psychokinesis. Upon opening it he was greeted with… another note.

_You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?_

_I’m sure by now you realize I’m counting on you to keep yourself alive until I return. Look all you like, but do put it back in order when you’re done._

_R.O._

That one he really should have seen coming.

And Ocelot was right about Bogomol not liking anything he found - as far as he could tell this was Ocelot’s torture kit, or something. Not very interesting or surprising and it made Bogomol a little queasy — though if he’d been looking for something to kill himself, he had plenty of options right here. One of these scalpels would probably be a finer, deeper, less painful cut than anything that razor on the sink could do to him. And he could take his pick of medications to overdose on; he wouldn’t even have to take off his mask if he didn’t want to, Ocelot didn’t limit himself to his pills and there were more than a few perfectly good syringes in pockets on the top half of the case.

Though Bogomol did have to wonder - were these _all_ just for interrogations? He was vaguely aware from 1984 that Ocelot took a lot of stimulants because he (felt, at least, that he) couldn’t afford to waste time with sleep. Bogomol wasn’t sure he knew what the names on any of the bottles or vials actually meant, and he couldn’t concentrate enough to actually remember.

Bogomol closed the case back up before he found anything too weird. His knowledge about the finer details of Ocelot’s torture techniques he’d entirely come by unwillingly, either from the minds of people who knew Ocelot - or had been through his wringer - or during conversations where Ocelot had clearly just talked about it to make Bogomol fidgety.

…he really didn’t have anything to do now, then. Nothing to do but lay on the floor, stare at the ceiling, and try not to lose himself in the persistent whispering minds of the city. Shield himself with the memories of his link to Eli.

Late evening.

“Really, Bogomol… sleeping on the floor…?”

“Hm….?” Bogomol sat up blearily, then after a moment remembered he was only wearing Ocelot’s shirt and flusteredly pushed the hem down his legs. “Ah, I…”

“You can change into your own clothes now,” Ocelot said, throwing a carpetbag on the floor in front of him. “I brought your books, too - or at least the ones that weren’t buried under random junk.”

“Oh… okay.”

Ocelot turned around and tore his taped note off the back of the door. “I see you’ve behaved yourself, though,” he said. “That’s good. I wasn’t certain if you would or not - but you were being monitored all day and I could have had someone come for you at a moment’s notice. Someone disposable, mind, but I know that even now you’re still too terrified of the researchers at the Leningrad University of Parapsychology finally getting their hands on you to fight back.”

Bogomol blinked, his skin prickling. “Um. What do you mean?”

“What,” Ocelot said, giving him a critical look, “you really think I’d stay at any hotel longer than one night if I didn’t have at least some of the staff in my pocket? or that I wouldn’t be in the habit of leaving certain devices hidden in my room just in case?”

“…”

“The point is…” Ocelot said, “it’s good that you simply laid about and napped all day instead of attempting anything… _reckless_. If you had then you would have found yourself drugged into a stupor every time I had to let you out of my sight for longer than ten minutes.”

“…oh.”

“Relax. I’m acting in your best interests here.”

Bogomol didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure if he believed Ocelot or not — he wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to believe Ocelot or not.

“Anyway,” Ocelot said at length, “have you come to a decision about the KGB?”

“I…” Bogomol coughed. “I think I have.”

“Then?”

“I don’t want to go back.”

“Alright then,” Ocelot said. “Tomorrow I’ll hand in your resignation notice for you.”

“…what?” Bogomol said, cocking his head at him. “Not even a word of protest? You were always so insistent I work hard and…”

“Simply because there’s no point in holding a job if you don’t put at least a modicum of effort into it,” Ocelot said with disdain, “and you undeniably made yourself useful there, though not nearly as useful as you could have been were you able to actually _use_ the _other_ 90% of your powers…”

“So it’s alright that I want to leave?”

“A den of wolves really isn’t a good place for someone like you… prey.”

Bogomol looked away. “This explains a lot,” he muttered.

“…”

Bogomol dragged the bag from his apartment towards himself and opened it, sorting through it. It was neatly packed, though the books were on top of the clothing. Bogomol was disquieted to find those thigh-high stockings he was so fond of… _was_ so fond of… until he realized that the clothes Ocelot had grabbed were fairly random and he’d only seem concerned with having at least _something_ in each category of clothing, shirts, pants, socks, underwear, sweaters… he even had his jacket here.

“Get dressed if you want, I don’t care,” Ocelot said, turning back to the door again. “I’m headed out for tonight, Bogomol. Remember, you’re not to leave this room.”

“…okay.”

“I’ll be back before dawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are the second verse “Группа Крови (Blood Type)”, a 1988 song by the Soviet rock band Kino. Thank you to Dacryphilia for helping me find it


	2. Chapter 2

“EVA, you’re good with kids, aren’t you?”

EVA blinked, stopping in the middle of repairing her motorcycle. Just _once_ she’d like to get a phone call from Ocelot that didn’t involve him dropping some weird shit like this. “I’m almost afraid to ask what brings this up, ADAM.”

“Look, are you or aren’t you? I need advice.”

“About _children?_ What are you doing with children? I don’t trust you with children.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, EVA. And it’s not children plural, just the one.”

“What child, ADAM? How did you end up with a child? Not legally, I bet.”

“I didn’t kidnap him if that’s what you’re implying. Nor have I adopted him. And _legally_ he’s… well, legally he’s a minor…”

“How old, ADAM,” EVA said flatly, wiping oil off her hands with a rag.

“Seventeen… or so.”

“How are you uncertain?”

“The birthday on his records is fabricated,” Ocelot said, “but as far as I can tell it’s only off by less than a year at the most. The main issue is the fact that he has the maturity of a child.”

“Who… _how_ did you end up with—?”

“It’s a long story and you don’t want to hear it, EVA.”

“ADAM-“

“You _really_ don’t want to hear it. But the point is,” Ocelot pressed on, “I’ve ended up with this… child in my care and I am… not sure what to do with him.”

“…”

“I should also mention the fact that he’s an incredibly powerful psychic who’s been in an extremely emotionally delicate state for the better part of six months now.”

“Okay, what?”

“Hm…” She could imagine Ocelot frowning. “Where do I start with this…?”

“The _beginning?_ ” EVA said.

“Well. You visited Eli a few times when he was thirteen, didn’t you? Was there a floating redhead he hung out with?”

“Yes. It was a little odd… especially the way Eli called him _Tretij_ …”

“Right. That’s him. Goes by the name Bogomol now, started working for the KGB a little over a year ago though as of today he’s retired. …and in my care, as I said.”

“Uh. Hm. How did that-“

“That’s not important. What am I supposed to do with him?”

“What are your _plans_ with him?” EVA said. Because of course Ocelot _had_ to have some kind of plan. He was _Ocelot_.

But Ocelot was silent. Eventually he said, “my initial plan was just to keep an eye on him so that he wouldn’t, as a loose end from ’84, ever cause any problems for me. But due to certain… unanticipated developments… _this_ has happened and now I’m not… entirely sure what I… am doing here.”

EVA frowned. The last time she’d heard Ocelot sound so uncertain was when he (as she had found out way later) had been drugging and hypnotizing himself for the whole Big Boss-Venom Snake thing. In fact she was tempted to ask him what he was on _now_ , but she hesitated. EVA could usually follow the logic to Ocelot’s actions, even if said logic was occasionally twisted, and she couldn’t fathom why Ocelot would be repeating that particular scheme over some underaged _psychic_ , regardless of his relation to one of Big Boss’ sons. Especially considering the kid quite literally hadn’t had a mind of his own last EVA had seen him. Or was that what Ocelot was banking on here?

“ADAM, do you even have the _time_ to raise someone?”

“Raise? EVA, I’m not _raising_ him here, I just-“

“Fine. Do you have time to take care of someone? Or whatever is going on here?”

“I can make time.”

“ADAM…”

“Don’t misunderstand me. It’s just that he almost drowned the other day and I’m wary of his cough developing into a full-blown infection. I don’t trust him not to do something unfortunate if I forced him to a hospital, either.”

“Ooookay… ADAM, I can’t give you advice if you won’t tell me the full situation.”

“Can’t you just give me generic advice? Child psychology is not my strong suit.”

“How long have you known him, ADAM? No, wait, let me guess: a little over a year.”

“What’s your point?” Ocelot said.

“Why not just continue treating him the same way you’ve always been treating him? Somehow I doubt he’d end up _in your care_ after almost drowning if you’d been completely hands-off the whole time.”

She heard an exasperated intake of breath. “That strategy did not work out so well.”

“What did you _do?_ ”

“EVA, if you’re not going to help me then I’m going to hang up now.”

“How am I supposed to help you if I, if _you_ don’t know what you want!?”

Ocelot hung up. EVA snorted. Just as likely he got offended by EVA calling him out on not knowing what he wanted - when he normally had everything thought out to the last detail. Evidently he wasn’t exaggerating about his “unanticipated developments” — something had thrown his plan on its ear and either he hadn’t had any backup plans or more likely those managed to get ruined too. And Ocelot could get _weird_ when he didn’t have any functional plans.

EVA picked up her wrench again. Just a few more tune-ups and she could ride this baby off to anywhere… including, say, Moscow.

* * *

The previous night Bogomol had fallen asleep long before Ocelot had come back from whatever he was doing, and hadn’t woken up before Ocelot had left again for the Lubyanka. Judging by the state of the hotel room when Bogomol did wake up, Ocelot had really only stopped by to shower, change clothes, shoot up, maybe clean his gun and then he wrote another obnoxious note for Bogomol. Thankfully this one was short and just reminded him to stay in the hotel room and call Ocelot’s cell number if he had some kind of crisis. Ocelot had also seen fit to schedule some hotel staff to drop off a small meal for Bogomol around one PM. _You don’t eat enough as it is, but even taking your ridiculous meal schedule into account you’re still overdue for actually eating something. The last thing I want is for you to starve yourself to death under my watch because neither of us were paying attention_.

He also reminded Bogomol to, again, not put his gas mask back on until his coughing fits had stopped. Bogomol’s headache was only intensifying with the persistent sounds of the city, though, rapidly outpacing the pain in the rest of his body (but it would still apparently be a while before his head started hurting more than simply breathing did). He’d frequently stare at his mask longingly, but he was still coughing badly… if anything, that was getting worse, too.

A shower helped him feel better, even if his surgical mask getting sopping wet was a new kind of uncomfortable. He had to wash and rinse his hair three times before the shampoo actually lathered up.

By the time he got out of the shower (after nearly passing out in it while coughing too hard to breathe), someone had left lunch for him on the room’s desk. Whichever hotel staff member had prepared this was somebody’s grandmother, Bogomol was certain, looking at the meal. Traditional Russian lunch down a T: a small bowl of okroshka, a plate with kotlety and fried potatoes, and a glass of kompot. …it was actually quite bizarre to Bogomol, he was very knowledgable of national eating habits in multiple countries but had never participated in any of them; Bogomol skipped the obshchepit pretty much on principle. Once a week or so he’d buy a shashlik or pirozhok on the way back to his flat, and that was it as far as food went.

Bogomol found himself, much to his surprise, hungry enough to finish everything given to him except for a last few bites of fried potato and the very dregs of the okroshka. The kompot glass, now empty, he refilled with water and drank that, too - he was even thirstier than he was hungry. Afterwards his stomach ached and he regretted eating so much, but he told himself that if he’d left any more uneaten then he would have been lectured by Ocelot later. But now Ocelot would be all _approving_ of him for having eaten nearly all of it, even if it really was a small meal all things considered.

He felt weird about the fact that that made him feel better.

Still ill and lacking anything else to do, and his head pounding due to the brief periods of tugging his mask away to take bites and sips, Bogomol left the dishes on the desk and crawled back into bed, curling up under the blanket and falling back asleep. That was all he did for the remainder of the day: rest.

Not long after sundown Ocelot returned. He didn’t say anything for the moment, but Bogomol was pretty sure Ocelot was aware he was awake even if he hadn’t moved under the covers. Ocelot just gathered up Bogomol’s dishes and left the room again for about two minutes before returning, opening his suitcase, and starting to undress. Bogomol pointedly turned his head away.

“I’d tell you to get used to it,” Ocelot said dryly, “but I’d rather be optimistic about us not having to share such close quarters for much longer.”

Bogomol just coughed.

“Not to say I’ve quite figured out what to do with you yet. Obviously I can’t just cut you loose…”

“And why not?” Bogomol asked.

Ocelot threw an annoyed look over his shoulder. “How many times have I told you? You’re a loose end from 1984, I intend to keep an eye on you so you won’t cause trouble for me later.”

“…”

Ocelot finished getting changed, though instead of fresh day clothes it was now a pair of old, somewhat worn sleepwear (sweatpants and a t-shirt with a Western logo for… Miller’s Maxi Buns…?); he disappeared to the bathroom for a while. Bogomol half-sat up and watched curiously as Ocelot came back (hair now down), retrieved some pills from his torture case, took them, and settled into the chair by the desk, closing his eyes.

“…are you planning to sleep there?” Bogomol said at length.

Ocelot cracked open one eye to glare at him. “What’s the matter?”

“Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“I don’t particularly care. The pills will kick in soon, at any rate.”

“But… are you sure you don’t want the bed?”

“It’s a bit occupied at the moment, isn’t it, Bogomol,” Ocelot muttered, closing his eyes again.

“Um…”

“…” Ocelot sighed through his nose. “I’m not sharing a bed with you, Bogomol.”

“I wasn’t saying-“

“No. Even if you clear out you’ll still end up getting tired and crawling in bed with me anyway. That’s not happening.”

“It won’t,” Bogomol protested feebly, getting out of the bed and standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor. “I don’t like… I don’t need to sleep with someone to… to sleep, anymore.”

Ocelot stared at him for a moment, then stood, walked over to the bed, and yanked the blanket off of it, throwing it at Bogomol. He did the same with pillow. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll take the bed. I don’t have time to argue about this.”

“…” Bogomol stared at the pillow and blanket in his arms. “…?”

“You’re sleeping on the floor,” Ocelot said pointedly, “and again: I do _not_ want to wake up with you next to me. You are _staying_ on the floor.”

“Okay,” Bogomol said in a small voice.

Ocelot laid down on the bed, back deliberately facing Bogomol, and tugged the top-sheet over himself. Petty? Yes. But he’d already taken his sleeping pills so he needed to end the conversation fast before he dozed off mid-sentence. It had happened before. Not very good for his credibili-—

…

Bogomol hadn’t known that Ocelot took sleeping aids, despite knowing about the stimulants thing. He had just kind of assumed that Ocelot went to sleep by letting the stimulants fade from his system on his own. Instead he… took more drugs on top of however many drugs he was already on…? Ocelot purported to be a normal man, just incredibly well-trained physically and mentally and inexplicably immune to telepathy, but after this, Bogomol had his doubts. How had his organs not just given out on him yet? Had his “drug resistance training” mostly just entailed figuring out how not to _die?_

Another coughing fit started up, but despite that and the pained gasping afterwards, Ocelot didn’t so much as stir. He was so deep asleep he may as well have been in a coma. Bogomol was… somewhat impressed. Evidently Ocelot trusted him enough not to murder him in his sleep… or, more realistically, to not let someone in (or get tricked into letting someone in) who would do that for him.

Now, Bogomol thought, would be a really good time to run away.

His coughing started up again, and he sank to the floor, suddenly weak in the legs. Running away just seemed like far too much effort. It was just easier to let Ocelot do whatever he wanted with him… it wasn’t like he cared, like he had any reason _to_ care.

After all, he wouldn’t see Eli again ever.

Even if and when Eli did come back from the POW camp, Bogomol wouldn’t want to see him. Couldn’t face him.

* * *

When Ocelot woke up, Bogomol was curled up asleep on the floor, hugging the pillow and wheezing softly. Ocelot was fully aware that this was one of those things he _should_ feel bad about - that most people _would_ feel bad about - but frankly, he didn’t. Bogomol had brought that upon himself in a very literal way.

Nothing to it, then. Mornings were always a bit rough for Ocelot, at least until he got ahold of his sharps through the haze, but he was good at sorting himself out quickly and silently, getting ready for the day (or next week+ of continuous activity) with only a slight hungover headache pulsing behind his eyeballs.

Bogomol still hadn’t woken up by the time was about to leave, though to be fair it was very early in the morning and most people weren’t awake yet. Ocelot had simply stepped over him and had his hand on the doorknob before he realized there was no point in leaving the kid on the floor. So he doubled back and picked him up. It was easy. He was light.

And, apparently, a light sleeper if he didn’t have vodka in his system.

“Nn…? Ocelot?”

“I’m just putting you back in the bed,” Ocelot said, doing exactly that. Bogomol coughed, grabbing hold of Ocelot’s sleeve. “What now?”

“I don’t… I feel… bad.”

“That’s to be expected. You’re still healing.”

“No, it’s… getting worse…” he started coughing again, doubling over. By the time the fit passed, the front of his surgical mask was soaked through with frothy, sticky mucus. “Ghh…”

“…it looks it. Do you feel nauseated, Bogomolechik? Are you cold?”

“Huh? I… y-yes.”

“I see.” He shook himself out of Bogomol’s grasp, then stepped into the bathroom, returning with a glass of water. He felt Bogomol’s forehead, frowning for a moment. “You’ll be alright for now,” he said, “you just need more rest, and make sure you drink plenty.”

“But… Ocelot…”

He pushed Bogomol’s hair back from his forehead, then unhooked his mask from his ears — Bogomol squeezed his eyes shut as what seemed like half of Moscow redoubled its mental assault. But a moment later the shouting, pushing voices were muffled as Ocelot replaced his mask with a fresh clean one.

“The symptoms are worrisome, yes,” Ocelot said, “but it’ll be some time before they’re bad enough that I can’t leave you unattended - and anyway, they might not _get_ that bad. There’s a good chance this will clear up on its own soon, before it starts to get serious.”

“If you… if you say so…”

“Don’t sound so dejected when you say something like that… I’ll come back sooner today. Try not to die on me in the meantime.”

Bogomol was alarmed. “Die?” he said.

“What are you so shocked about?” Ocelot said, straightening himself. “You _wanted_ to die just a few days ago.”

“That…”

“…was different somehow? What’s changed?”

Bogomol looked away, his hands clenching around the blanket.

“I have to go,” Ocelot said at length, turning around and heading for the door. “I’m sure I don’t need to leave little note reminders anymore.”

“Wait,” Bogomol coughed after him.

“What?” Ocelot said, turning around and putting his hands on his hips.

“…why…”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so… kind to me… still? Why do you do this?”

Ocelot snorted. “I _just_ told you last night, Bogomolechik,” he said with sarcastic deliberateness, “you’re a loose end. I have to keep an eye on you. Since you’ve got the mentality of a literal child, the only real way for me to do that is this… ridiculous parody of _care_. If I weren’t constantly checking up on you and cleaning up your messes, you’d have died a long time ago — or else ended up back at the University, which I think you’d like even less.”

Bogomol looked down at his lap, shamefaced. “But…”

“We’ve been over this, Bogomol.”

“But I don’t understand why you… didn’t just let me die.”

“…”

“Wouldn’t that have been easier?” Bogomol peeked up at him nervously. “To just get rid of me entirely… you say you don’t have any kinds of plans with me. You should have just shot me the day you met me.”

Ocelot stared at him for a moment, then smiled. Bogomol shivered involuntarily - Ocelot had a nice smile but Bogomol knew him well enough to know Ocelot’s smile was much, much more akin to a predator baring its teeth before it eats some hapless creature than any _human_ thing.

“Ah,” Ocelot said, “where would be the fun in that?”

Bogomol scrunched in on himself, his nausea intensifying. Immediately Ocelot seemed to realize he’d said the wrong thing - his demeanor certainly changed - and he took half a step back towards the door.

“…I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, evenly. “I don’t keep you around as a plaything, Bogomol. I have no interest in you like… nevermind. You don’t believe me.”

“No,” Bogomol whispered.

Ocelot scrutinized him from under lowered eyelids for a minute or two, then said, “If I _wanted_ sex from you, Bogomolechik, then I could have _taken_ it at any time. What would you do to stop me? …I wouldn’t even need your fear of the University to cow you. You’re terrified of me.”

Bogomol winced, but was silent.

“But instead _you_ come on to _me_ and we end up with _this_ mess. I’m taking responsibility for it.”

“I thought for you, that meant… just killing people who cause problems.”

“Normally it would,” Ocelot sighed. “Special circumstances and all, Bogomolechik. You’re better off alive, and handing you off to the University would be a— lazy move with no real benefit. Even if I _should_ have done it earlier, the time has passed and I am, unfortunately, stuck with you.”

“O-Oh…”

“I’m going now,” Ocelot said pointedly, getting the door. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Stay out of trouble, call me if you need me.”

“Um… okay.” Bogomol coughed again. “Goodbye…”

Ocelot closed the door behind him harder than what Bogomol thought was necessary. Bogomol stared at it blearily. He didn’t know what to make of anything Ocelot just said, but then again he didn’t know what to make of any of how Ocelot had acted towards him since the summer he first joined the KGB, one year ago.

Bogomol had always been someone’s ‘pet psychic’, ever since he escaped from that research institution when en route to the University. After getting jerked around and constantly changing hands for half of 1984, he’d settled with Eli, and liked him best anyway - Eli didn’t treat him like a pet or a tool, he treated him like his comrade, his equal, his friend. He _was_ his friend. Right up until he _abandoned_ him to run off and join the SAS and left Bogomol at a crummy hotel in Berlin. And now he was _gone_.

Eli was gone and it seemed to Bogomol that Ocelot’s intentions had - perhaps always - been to pull Bogomol back into being someone’s pet, this time his. Since Bogomol couldn’t read his mind, there was no chance of latching onto his emotions, so - that was why Bogomol was so scared of how much he owed Ocelot. How Ocelot kept taking care of him and saving him, over and over again… Ocelot said that he didn’t hold debt from children, but that just meant to Bogomol that the second he reached the age of majority, Ocelot would call him out and he’d be timidly forced into psychic slavery, with no Eli to rescue him this time. The creeping realization that there was (so it seemed to Bogomol) some kind of sexual tension between them only served to frighten Bogomol even more.

And then the tension boiled over. Bogomol tugged the pillow over his head, hiding under it and coughing again. Bogomol assumed that Ocelot was in some way attracted to him, even if he was only attracted to his vulnerability, so he’d tried to wipe his debts out by letting him fuck him. But he hadn’t- Ocelot hadn’t— _neither_ of them had anticipated how much of an emotional blow to Bogomol that would be. It broke his little heart. Every time he thought about it he imagined Eli reacting with disgust, even betrayal. He’d _hate_ him. Both for having sex with Ocelot and for being so weak and scared and worthless for anything except his powers and his body.

Ocelot should have just let him drown in the Moskva River. Even if that one night of pain and regret had been enough to reset everything else he’d done for him, Bogomol now owed him his life, _again_. He didn’t have to courage to just take it.

The thought was strangely reassuring. He was afraid of death just like any other creature crawling on the Earth, wasn’t he? Knowing that he was too much of a damned coward to off himself gave him a bizarre comfort and made death seem so far away.

Bogomol managed to get some sleep.

He woke up to someone knocking on the hotel door.


	3. Chapter 3

Bogomol sat up as the knock at the hotel door repeated. He wasn’t sure what to do. Ocelot hadn’t told him that any hotel staff would be dropping by - plus, wouldn’t they just walk right in? or was this a courtesy knock? — it couldn’t be Ocelot himself, he would _definitely_ walk right in without knocking and Bogomol was pretty sure it was still morning, so he shouldn’t be back yet.

Maybe if he just stayed quiet, whoever it was would go away…

“Tretij?”

Bogomol blinked. No one had called him that in _years_ \- even Eli ditched that name as soon as he found out its actual translation.

“Tretij, honey, are you in here? Come open the door for me.”

Bogomol reached out telepathically, but only got vague static from the woman speaking to him through the door. Seemed like she had ‘psychic insulation’ cybernetic implants - so was she here from the KGB, then? No, she had such a kind voice, and she was speaking familiarly, too. Plus there were very, very few people who actually knew the ‘name’ “Tretij”.

Haltingly Bogomol crawled out of bed and cautiously checked the peep-hole (that he had to bend down slightly to look through). He… wasn’t sure he recognized the woman standing just outside the door. Long blonde hair that she worse loose, probably half a decade or a little more older than Ocelot, dressed like an escort who was fooling herself about her prices. Who was…?

Somewhere in his pounding head Bogomol was able to dredge up memories of the fall and winter of the year Eli turned thirteen. That’s right, this was—

She knocked again. “Hello?”

Bogomol timidly opened the door, keeping the lock engaged, and peered at her through the crack. “H-Hello… EVA.”

“Hello, Tretij,” EVA said brightly, “can you let me in?”

“Did Ocelot send you?”

“No. But he won’t mind if I’m here, we’re coordinating on some things right now. Can you let me in?”

“…” Well, back when Bogomol had first met and last seen her, he hadn’t really had many concrete likes and dislikes, but - he had liked EVA. So he undid the lock and stepped back, letting the door swing open between them.

He retreated into the room as EVA stepped in and closed the door behind her, and promptly had a coughing fit so bad he had to support himself against the bedframe. EVA came and, grabbing him carefully around his shoulders, made him sit on the mattress.

“Ocelot told me you were sick, but he didn’t mention it was this bad,” she said, then put her hands on her hips and looked around the hotel room. “He just _left_ you here by yourself?”

“He said he’d be back early today,” Bogomol croaked.

“He’s just been _leaving_ you here by yourself _more than once?_ ” She snorted. “Sometimes I can hardly believe that idiot.”

Bogomol blinked. He’d heard a lot of insults thrown at Ocelot before (mostly from Eli), but “idiot” was a new one.

“He couldn’t even be bothered to move hotel rooms! …though I suppose this _is_ Ocelot we’re talking about, it’s not like he uses the bed.” She turned back to Bogomol. “Now, Tretij, Ocelot told me that you almost drowned and implied that it was his fault somehow… or gave that impression, anyway. What exactly happened, dear?”

“Um…” Bogomol hesitated, “I don’t think I should… I don’t want to talk about it.”

EVA raised an eyebrow, seizing the first part of the sentence. “You don’t _want_ to tell me, or you don’t think you _can_ tell me?”

Bogomol stared at his lap, letting out another cough.

“Do you think Ocelot wouldn’t like it if you told me what’s going on?” She got down on one knee in front of him so that Bogomol wouldn’t have to look up to make eye contact. “Or do you just not want people to know?”

Slowly, Bogomol nodded.

EVA frowned for half a second. “I won’t tell anyone,” she said. “And since Ocelot and I work so closely together, he won’t care if you told me.”

“Really?” Bogomol said, skeptically.

“I just need to know what’s going on, Tretij. How did you get here? Let’s start with that.”

“…”

“Ocelot already told me that you nearly drowned, and he rescued you and brought you here while you recovered. Is that right?”

Bogomol nodded. If Ocelot had already told her some things already, then there must not be any harm in answering her questions. “He pulled me out of the Moskva River and gave me CPR… I woke up here.”

“What were you doing in the Moskva River?”

“I… fell.”

EVA’s mouth thinned at the pause but she didn’t push; instead she changed the subject. “So, how exactly do you know Ocelot? You worked together at the KGB, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Bogomol said, relieved. This seemed like a much safer topic of conversation. “I met him again during my first week, I hadn’t seen or heard of him at all since Eli and I left Mother Base.”

“I see. He must have been the only one there that you already knew, huh?”

“There…”

“Hm? Go on, Tretij.”

“There was a researcher who came by, from the same institution I was supposed to be transferred to back in 1984,” Bogomol said quietly, “the University… he recognized me and he was going to report me so I…”

“…killed him?” EVA guessed.

Bogomol shook his head. “Something worse,” he said, “I destroyed his mind. I was scared, I just wanted him to forget he even saw me, but… anyway, that happened the morning before Ocelot got there—“ he started coughing again. EVA picked the glass of water up off the bedside table and offered it to Bogomol, but he waved it away. “Ocelot understood what happened,” he said hoarsely, “he covered it up. No one ever found out. And later, a couple weeks later more people from the University showed up but Ocelot didn’t let them meet me.”

“Ahh. He wanted you right where he could see you.”

“It’s not just that,” Bogomol said, “I mean… I don’t think it was.”

“So what was going on?”

Again Bogomol hesitated.

“You can tell me,” EVA said soothingly, patting his shoulder. “It’s alright.”

“Well… when I got to the KGB, I didn’t know how to dress, um, professionally. Ocelot took me to get new clothes and showed me how to wear them nicely. And I— I couldn’t read or write Russian when I first got there, so Ocelot taught me. And Eli…” His shoulders sank. “Eli and I were supposed to… write letters to each other. I had to get Ocelot’s help so I could send my letters to the SAS, and receive Eli’s letters… and then… when he was shot down…”

Bogomol _really_ didn’t feel well now. But EVA was looking at him so expectantly that he kept talking.

“When Eli got shot down I was so depressed I stayed in bed for a week,” Bogomol said in a small voice, “Ocelot came for me, he, he took care of me.” Best to leave out the part about stripping in front of him so Ocelot could clean his bedsores, and the part about him getting him drunk afterwards. Especially the getting drunk part. And the part where sometime after that Ocelot had started stocking Bogomol’s flat with vodka for himself and Bogomol had… occasionally… taken advantage of that. EVA might speak the language flawlessly but she _wasn’t_ _Russian_ , she wouldn’t understand…

“Did he come by your apartment a lot?” EVA said.

Bogomol nodded. He wished he could read her mind; he wasn’t sure where this conversation was going.

“That’s… strangely nice of him.”

“Ah… he was just… we don’t like each other,” Bogomol insisted. “He thinks I’m annoying and I… I don’t trust him… especially now.”

“What do you mean?”

“…I shouldn’t tell you!”

“I think you _should_ tell me, Tretij,” EVA said firmly. Bogomol quailed. “Have things changed recently? Go on.” Bogomol forced himself to nod. “Did Ocelot do something?”

“Yes,” Bogomol blurted out, “I mean, no, I mean it was good— he did a good- a favor, he _saved_ me, again- I—“ He cut himself off, coughing hard.

EVA sat next to him and rubbed his back until the coughing and wheezing stopped. She maintained her friendly expression but Bogomol could see suspicion in her eyes. “What did he do?”

“No…”

“You said he ‘saved’ you again, recently? What happened?”

Bogomol shook his head frantically.

“It’s alright,” EVA said, “you said Ocelot did a good thing. So why would there be anything wrong if you told me about it?”

“…”

“You’re trying to protect him.” She said it so plainly that Bogomol flinched. “Why would he need protected for saving you? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It… circumstances…”

“What happened?”

Bogomol was keenly aware of the fact that EVA was using the exact same conversation-guiding techniques he’d frequently seen Ocelot use (though not often on him, it wasn’t like Bogomol had much to hide from him), just dressed up with - in her defense, apparently genuine - motherly concern. But despite his awareness of this, Bogomol had still already talked himself into a corner and if he didn’t give her this much then she was going to think that…

…why _was_ he protecting Ocelot? Hadn’t what Ocelot had done to him been _wrong?_ He _should_ tell EVA, she _should_ know, there was nothing about the way she was acting now that indicated that she _wouldn’t_ punish Ocelot for—

—did he really want Ocelot punished for that? It was his own fault.

“Tretij?”

“One of my superiors, Kuznetsov, called me to his office,” Bogomol said nervously, “he um… he propositioned me, and when I refused he tried to rape me. But Ocelot walked in and stopped him and he told me earlier that Kuznetsov is dead now… I don’t know if Ocelot killed him, or if he blackmailed him to suicide because he saw him trying to have sex with a boy… but he’s gone now. Ocelot saved me.” He glanced up at EVA, his eyes wide. “He sent me home right after that because he thought I’d be too shaken to keep working. He came and checked on me in the evening.”

“…” EVA sighed through her nose, rubbing Bogomol’s back again. “Tretij, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was something like that. Are you okay?”

Bogomol nodded again. “It’s fine,” he whispered. “Kuznetsov didn’t get very far. And I’m used to being uncomfortable. -—I mean, from the research installation in Czechoslovakia. There were always researchers touching me in ways I didn’t like or understand. I’m used to it.”

“Medical exams?”

Bogomol shrugged with one shoulder, turning away from EVA.

There was a lull in conversation. At length, EVA said, “has Ocelot ever asked you to do anything in return for… taking care of you?”

Bogomol shook his head.

“…have you ever _done_ anything in return, on your own initiative? Helped him out with anything?”

Nod.

“So what did you do to try to repay him?”

Bogomol curled in on himself, coughing a little. His head hurt, his body hurt and EVA was asking too many questions far too directly. He wasn’t good with direct questions.

“Tretij…”

Bogomol shook his head silently. He didn’t want to talk anymore.

EVA changed tactics, tugging the neck of Bogomol’s sweater down with one finger before Bogomol could stop her. Bogomol reeled back with a panicked gasp, covering his neck with his hands, but it was too late.

“Tretij,” EVA said evenly, “why do you have bruises in the shape of someone’s hands? the same size hands as Ocelot’s?”

“It’s nothing!” Bogomol squeaked.

“Tell me what Ocelot did. He choked you, didn’t he?”

“It was- it was consensual,” Bogomol protested weakly, unable to scrounge up a better defense.

Probably _literally anything_ would have worked as a better defense, judging by EVA’s expression. “You know he gets off on that kind of thing, Tretij. Don’t you?”

“I- but—“

She stood up, crossing her arms. “He took advantage of you, didn’t he?”

“It was consensual!”

“Is that what he told you?”

“ _I_ started it!” Bogomol cried shrilly, pulling at his hair, “ _I_ came onto _him!_ I _let_ him fuck me—“

“Oh my _god_.”

“-it was _my_ idea, he gave me the chance to stop but I _didn’t_ and I came _twice_ and afterwards he was so gentle with me-—!”

“He’s almost _fifty_ , Tretij,” EVA said, scrubbing her hands over her face, “you are _seventeen_. And you _act_ like a child, you can’t possibly be responsible for this! What Ocelot did is _wrong_.”

“But it was me, it was _my_ choice!”

“Because he _groomed_ you. Oh my god. I thought Miller was just paranoid. I was worried he was trying to use you as some kind of _tool_ , not a _child sex slave_.”

“That’s not what I am!” Bogomol snapped, “it happened once!”

“How long ago?”

“…um—“

“And you didn’t really ‘fall’ into the Moskva River, did you?”

Bogomol opened his mouth to reply but another coughing fit started up instead. He slapped EVA’s hand away when she tried to help and by the time he was done he had to change his mask again - making sure to face _away_ from her as he did, with trembling hands. He felt cold. He should have just pretended he wasn’t there when EVA knocked on the door.

EVA huffed, rubbing Bogomol’s back again while he almost asphyxiated on his own mucus. Somewhere in there she checked his temperature, too, and frowned. She grabbed a nearby blanket and tucked it around his shoulders.

“Listen, Tretij,” she said very seriously once Bogomol’s breathing evened out again, “I know you’re upset and confused right now, but this isn’t your fault and-“

The room door was thrown open. Ocelot slunk in, irritated. “EVA, I am _aware_ that we needed to meet up soon, but I was under the impression that you were going to _contact_ me when you were en route to—-“

As Ocelot was talking, EVA strode across the room and cut him off with a hard slap to the face.

“…” He blinked at her, rubbing his cheek, then his eyes fixed on Bogomol behind her. Bogomol shrank in on himself, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“I can’t _believe_ you!!” EVA shouted at him. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you!?”

“You told her,” Ocelot said flatly to Bogomol, who shivered.

EVA stepped between Ocelot’s line of sight and Bogomol, putting her fists on her hips. “Leave him out of this!! He doesn’t deserve anything you’ve put him through, ADAM! He’s just a _child!_ An emotionally vulnerable child!”

“EVA,” Ocelot started, “whatever you think is going on here, I-“

“You weren’t trying to keep an eye on a loose end, you just wanted an easy lay!”

“You think I was _interested_ in him to begin with?” Ocelot said acidly. “Oh please.”

“You _got_ interested, didn’t you!”

“ _He_ came onto _me_. Surely he told you _that_ part, this wasn’t my-“

“That made it _your_ responsibility to _turn him down_ , ADAM, Jesus _fucking_ Christ! And do you really expect me to believe you didn’t _set out_ to manipulate him into developing a crush on you?!”

“I don’t have a crush on-“ Bogomol started, but EVA half-turned and interrupted him.

“It’s alright, Tretij,” she said, her voice abruptly gentle, “don’t worry, I’ll handle this.”

“But-“

EVA turned back to Ocelot, who glared at her. “You shouldn’t be around him anymore,” she said firmly, “he’s coming with me.”

“What?” Ocelot said.

“What??” Bogomol gasped, jumping off and bed and stumbling over to Ocelot. He grabbed his hand and held it tightly despite Ocelot trying to subtly pull away. “I want to stay with him.”

“Tretij, you—“ EVA rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “You should _not_ stay with him, Tretij, he’s only hurt you and he’ll just continue to-“

“I think I’m being misrepresented here,” Ocelot said.

“Cry me a river, ADAM. You fuck a sixteen-year-old, you lose access to said sixteen-year-old. End of story.”

“I want to stay with him,” Bogomol repeated anxiously, squeezing Ocelot’s hand harder. His whole body was shaking. “I don’t… I don’t feel…”

“Bogomolechik, go lie down,” Ocelot said softly, tugging his hand out of Bogomol’s.

“Bogomol _echik?_ ” EVA said incredulously. “Oh, so you even—“

“EVA, that’s enough.”

“No it is _not_ -“

Bogomol grabbed Ocelot’s hand again. “I want to stay with Otselyubyek!”

There was a very short pause as both EVA and Ocelot processed the term of endearment, then just as Ocelot yanked his hand away in horror and EVA’s expression changed from upset to imminently homicidal, Bogomol collapsed.

“Tretij!”

Ocelot dropped to the floor next to him, checking him over quickly. “He’s just unconscious,” he said, calm, “his fever’s getting worse.” He carefully picked him up and put him back on the bed.

“It’s developing into pneumonia, isn’t it,” EVA said as Ocelot fussed over Bogomol’s blankets.

“Seems like it.”

“He needs a hospital, ADAM.”

“No,” Ocelot said flatly.

EVA crossed her arms. “And why not?” she snapped.

Ocelot glanced at her dismissively, straightening up. “He’s terrified of medical settings,” he explained, “and he has a very recent history of self-destructive behaviors when he’s scared.”

“Like jumping into a river when he starts getting sexually abused?” EVA said, her voice dry and sour. “Or ‘seducing’ his older caretaker when he owes him too much?”

“It happened _once_ and it won’t happen again. That was a mistake.”

“Well, you can’t take it back. Especially now that he’s given you a _cute boyfriend nickname_ —“

“Believe me, EVA, that’s the first time he’s ever called me that.”

“Bogomol’s coming with me, ADAM.”

Ocelot sneered at her. “You wouldn’t know what to do with him. The only other person who knows him as well as _I_ do is currently rotting in a POW camp somewhere in the Middle East.”

“…”

“You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“That’s a dangerous proposition coming from you,” EVA said.

“You have your own son to worry about right now. Leave his symbiont to me.”

“…” EVA hissed through her teeth. “I can’t believe this. You’ve really got your claws in him that deep, don’t you? What the _hell_ were you planning?!”

“I told you, I only intended to-“

“Don’t lie to me! You of all people would be looking at him and thinking of ways he could make himself _useful_.”

Ocelot sighed. “I’ll admit to that,” he said, “but I was - or at least I _thought_ I was - very clear to him that I didn’t consider him to be in my debt. He was never supposed to owe me any favors. I just wanted to be able to track his whereabouts and activities, and for him to not even _like_ me necessarily, just to not view me as any sort of enemy or potential enemy later in life. I wanted to foster a charitable view towards me so that, years down the line, if I asked him to coordinate with me on something he’d be willing to hear me out. …but that was _all_. I never expected for him to… get attached.”

EVA glanced between Ocelot and Bogomol like she doubted that it was _Bogomol_ who got attached here, but she stayed in prickly silence.

“It was a moment of weakness, EVA. It won’t happen again. Both of us have learned our lesson.”

“Stop trying to act like he was on equal footing with you.”

Ocelot spread his arms helplessly. “I fucked up,” he said. “What more do you want from me?”

“To _not be around him anymore_.”

“He’s extremely dependant on others, EVA, you can’t just take him away from the person he relies on… and unfortunately, that would be me. You’ll just have to accept the lesser of the two evils.”

“…”

“I promise I’ll play with him with kid gloves on.”

EVA laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “Goddammit, ADAM.”

“Forget it,” Ocelot said. “We have some other business to attend to, anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h/t Phase7 for “Otselyubyek”. It’s a portmanteau of Otselot (Ocelot) and lyubi (love, masculine), with the -yek diminutive tacked on the end. It sounds ‘off’ but that’s intentional, considering Mantis coming to the KGB would have been the first time he’d really spoken much Russian, and he’s just generally a weird kid.


	4. Chapter 4

It was quiet when Bogomol came to, silent aside from the thoughts of a single stranger changing an IV. One that lead into his arm. The room was unfamiliar and small, but clearly intended for him not to have to leave as long as someone else brought him food.

“Where…” the word died on his lips - instead he reached vaguely towards the stranger. He could see in her mind what her real name was but everyone called her another thing, and she was a member of the medical staff at Outer Heaven which meant nothing to Bogomol except that she acted in a nursing capacity.

“Oh, you’re finally awake,” Lazy Moth said. “How are you feeling?”

Bogomol slowly shook his head. He felt nauseous and while his head didn’t hurt anymore, that only served to emphasize just how badly his chest did.

“You must be a little confused, but you should just keep resting right now. It seems like you’ve been through a lot. Here,” she said, picking something up off a tray, “hold still,” and sticking it in his ear. Bogomol was too exhausted to react, and anyway it was over and she was checking it in a few seconds. “Hmm…”

“…’s it… bad?”

“No,” Lazy Moth said, looking up at him, “your fever is much lower now than it was before. But you do still have a fever. It may be a little while longer before your body temperature returns to normal.”

“…nn…”

“You can just go back to sleep for now,” Lazy Moth said. “Someone will come explain everything to you later.”

Bogomol nodded and did as she said.

Later.

“Where am I?” Bogomol asked after he was finished coughing up some terrifyingly green mucus into a designated bin.

“Mother Base medical platform,” Ghost Gull said, “Outer Heaven - though Commander Ocelot told us that the name ‘Diamond Dogs’ would mean more to you.”

“Oh…” Bogomol blinked. “So I’m back here.”

“Commander Ocelot gave us a history,” Ghost Gull said, flipping through papers on a clipboard. “You nearly drowned in Moscow, and subsequently came down a lung infection that developed in pneumonia. Several days ago, you fainted and afterwards delirium developed, and Commander Ocelot was unwilling to take you to a civilian hospital - though he assured us that this kind of medical setting would likely be fine for you?”

Bogomol looked around. The room was clean and did definitely look like the sort of place that housed sick and injured people, and there was the IV and medical instruments and such, but aside from being kind of on-edge and uncomfortable, he didn’t feel as scared as he thought he would. He nodded at Ghost Gull. Maybe it was because the Diamond Dogs Outer Heaven medical staff wore the same brown-green uniforms as everyone else (just like the ones in 1984, but with a different patch on the shoulders), so they didn’t _look_ like doctors, nurses, or researchers. (Though he’d thought that they’d worn lab coats back then. Maybe Ocelot had asked them to remove them before treating him.)

“That’s good,” Ghost Gull said, looking back down at the clipboard. “He also told us to refit one of the isolation rooms as a Faraday cage and keep you there - that’s where you are now.”

“That’s why I… can’t hear…”

“Anyway, your pneumonia has been responding well to antibiotics - that’s what your IV is for, by the way - as for your fractured ribs, there’s nothing we can really do aside for wait for them to heal on their own, which should be another five weeks. In the meantime you’re free to ask for painkillers any time you feel you need them. Do you understand?”

Bogomol nodded.

“Any questions?”

“Where is Ocelot…?”

“He’s off-base right now. Boss said that he’d stop by to see you later, so you can ask him for more details.”

Bogomol was silent. He knew from Ghost Gull’s mind that ‘Boss’ referred to Venom, but he wasn’t sure he understood why Venom would want to see him. Maybe it was just standard procedure, he was a new person on Base after all.

Ghost Gull, content that Bogomol grasped his situation, finished up in there and left. Bogomol laid back down to wait, and dozed off.

* * *

Bogomol woke back up to some kind of strange psychic tugging of a long-abandoned link. He didn’t really need to open his eyes to know that Venom had walked in the room, but he sat up and cocked his head at him anyway. It was odd, he thought, the way Venom’s mind was now - back in 1984 it had been a jumbled mess that Bogomol knew only retrospect was because it had been dismantled and put back together again with the wrong identity. Venom was still Big Boss but was his own man, too, far removed from whoever he was before MSF sank but no longer a mere copy in any tangible sense.

Still, the brief flits of parasitism from seven years ago called to Bogomol in a weird way. It wasn’t even Venom’s emotions that caused it, just memories that were more Bogomol’s own; the days when everything was for revenge were long past, and the chaos and anger had been replaced with a paradoxically benevolent desire to provide a home for alienated and abandoned soldiers who couldn’t thrive any other way, a place where they could find peace in war. Outer Heaven.

“Ocelot wanted me ask you what you remember from before you collapsed,” Venom said without preamble.

“Is it important?” Bogomol said.

“He seemed to think so. He asked me to pass on what you said as soon as I could.”

Bogomol shook his head. “I don’t remember. I felt sick, EVA was there, and then I was here.”

“…EVA was there?”

“Where is Ocelot?”

“He’s out looking for someone,” Venom said.

“For Eli?”

Venom nodded. “I don’t know where exactly he’s searching - it doesn’t have anything to do with us, he was commissioned by someone else entirely.”

“EVA,” Bogomol said.

 _If he’s just reading my mind then there’s no point in talking out loud_ , Venom thought.

“When will Ocelot be back?” Bogomol asked instead.

“He’ll be back here temporarily next week, if nothing comes up.”

“He’s not staying?”

Venom shrugged.

There was a pause. Bogomol swallowed uncomfortably. “…what happens now?”

“Ocelot was insistent that you stay here,” Venom said. “At least until you’ve recovered from your pneumonia, but he said you didn’t have anywhere else to go anyway. …is that true?”

Bogomol nodded.

Venom frowned. He was surprised by Ocelot’s attitude - nothing Ocelot had ever said about Bogomol here on Mother Base had ever really come across like he was particularly fond of him. In fact, judging by a few key phrases Venom recalled Ocelot describing Bogomol with (“twitchy little handful,” “very nearly more trouble than he’s worth,” “I always have to clean up his messes”), the impression that Ocelot had given off was that he was highly annoyed by Bogomol _at best_ , outright hated him and vaguely planned to kill him at worst.

Bogomol didn’t know how to feel about that.

“…um,” he said at length, “if I’m supposed to stay here… what do I do once I’m… alright to get out of bed? Will I work?”

“I was told you aren’t eighteen yet…”

“Well… no, but I did have a job at the KGB for over a year. Does that count for anything?”

“Hrm…”

“I could… help out with the intel team,” Bogomol said, rifling through Venom’s knowledge of base operations.

“Ocelot’s in charge of the intel team.” Bogomol already knew that. “You can take it up with him when he gets back.” Passing the buck, huh.

“Okay.”

Bogomol could feel an itching, remorse-tinged curiosity from Venom about what had happened to Eli, but there wasn’t much Bogomol could tell him that he didn’t already know. The Kingdom of the Flies collapsed, they made it to America, they parted ways so Eli could join the SAS and then six months ago he got shot down in the Middle East somewhere - MIA, then after the war ended a confirmed POW with no offer on the table for his safe return. Venom had already been briefed on all of that.

“Guess I’ll just let you go back to sleep now,” Venom muttered, glancing away. Bogomol nodded, pulling his blanket a little closer around him and stifling a cough. Venom left without another word.

Surely Bogomol was going to get tired of sleeping at some point.

* * *

Bogomol woke up again to an unfamiliar voice thinking something along the lines of _WOW UGLY_.

He sat up quickly (going a little dizzy in the process), yanking the blanket almost up to his eyeballs in an attempt to cover as much of his face as possible while still letting himself see this girl who’d came into his room — she was pretty, he guessed, but looked maybe twelve or thirteen, just beginning adolescence. In her mind she was fifteen years old. Had she just hit puberty really late on account of being a war zone kid? Bogomol thought that made sense; he remembered how unusually short Eli was when he was twelve, especially considering how tall he ended up being.

“Who are you?” the girl said.

“Who are _you?_ ” Bogomol said, although he already saw that her name was Wolf, for some reason - ‘Sniper’ Wolf, she self-styled.

“I heard you were new kid here,” Wolf said instead of introducing herself, “I had to come check you out.” She put her hands on his bed, leaning forward far enough that Bogomol had to lean _back_ to keep her face from bumping into his. “Where did you come from? You sound like Russians.”

“…Moscow?”

“Same place as Ocelot… did he bring you here?”

Bogomol nodded, then coughed. Wolf removed herself from his personal space, rocking back on her heels with her arms crossed instead.

“I saw Saladin came in talk to you a few hours ago.”

Had he really been asleep that long? Maybe it wasn’t just antibiotics in the IV. “Are you supposed to be here? You snuck in…”

“No I didn’t!”

“I… I can read your mind. You snuck past some of the medical staff while their backs were turned and were very careful to open and close my door quietly.”

Wolf frowned. “Oh,” she said. “Freak.”

“…I get that a lot…”

“Well, lots of freaks here. How old are you?” She tilted her head, scrutinizing him. “Older than me?”

“Yes. I’m almost an adult.”

“But you are not one? Just another child Saladin wants to raise on Base… then, you should know…” Wolf thumbed towards herself, smirking. “— _I_ am in charge! Me, I am the boss of the children at Outer Heaven. You must do what I say!”

Bogomol stared at her for a few moments, then couldn’t help but laugh.

“W-what?!”

“You just… remind me of someone, that’s all.”

“…hmph!”

“That wasn’t a bad thing! It was someone I’m— …someone I _was_ very close to,” Bogomol said, scrunching in on himself. Sad as it made him, he didn’t want to show it in front of Wolf.

But Wolf was perceptive. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing. I… I’m ill, that’s all. That’s why I’m here.”

“Hmmm… you can put the blanket down. I have already saw your face.”

“I’d rather not.”

“What? Lots of ugly people here too,” she said, “are you afraid?”

“…” Of course he was, he always was, but at this point he had no idea _of what_. Outer Heaven was, in effect, Ocelot’s domain, so if he was safe around Ocelot then he was safe here.

Was he really safe around Ocelot, though? He’d like to think he was.

“You are doing it again!” Wolf interrupted his thoughts.

“D…doing what?”

Wolf waved a hand. “Looking like you are about to cry.”

“I’m not,” Bogomol protested weakly.

“Good! No crying allowed. I will hit you if you cry.”

“Um…” Wolf plainly thought of herself as being in a position of power over the other children/adolescents just because she’d managed to get permission to receive combat training before turning eighteen. Again, it made sense to Bogomol - he just thought that the norms she chose to enforce were a bit baffling. Discouraging being too emotional was reasonable in the middle of a battlefield, but on Mother Base? Who was she helping there? “…sorry.” If (when) he started helping out the intel team, would Wolf take that as an attack on her authority?

Did it matter if she did, anyway? No matter how badly his chest hurt right now Bogomol was still more than capable of psychokinetically kicking her out of the room, or worse. She _lived_ right now on his good graces.

He didn’t realize that his grip on the blanket had tightened until Wolf noticed.

“What are you sick with?” Wolf said, leaning forward again. “Why you in a room by yourself?”

“I— I have pneumonia,” Bogomol explained, “so right now I can’t wear my gas mask… normally, if I’m not wearing it, then I can hear everyone’s thoughts for three miles.”

Wolf considered it. She knew there were several hundred people on Mother Base. “So it would be like being in a huge, noisy crowd all the time?”

“Yes. But this room is… they fixed it so that right now, the only person I can hear is you.”

“Oh. So, is this your room forever then? Will you stay here instead of going to the children’s barracks?”

“I don’t know.”

“Quiet also has her own room on the medical platform instead of in barracks! You could be like neighbors.”

Right on cue, Quiet opened the door to Bogomol’s room, poking her head in and narrowing her eyes at Wolf, who smiled sheepishly. Quiet stepped in and closed the door behind her before the outside noise could bother Bogomol too much - she too hadn’t changed much since 1984, apart from clothes and hairstyle and a few more lines on her face and a certain aging wiriness to her body.

 _Dumb kid_ , she was thinking, _thought I told her not to come bother Ocelot’s doorstep baby._ She glanced at Bogomol. _Wow, someone actually washed his hair in the past seven years. Fucking incredible._

“Hi,” Bogomol said timidly.

_…shit. That’s right, he’s psychic and he’s probably listening to my thoughts right now oh god that’s just bizarre hi kid how are you doing what the fuck is Ocelot’s deal anyway_

“…”

_okay Maybe he isn’t reading my thoughts right now. Whew. I mean he’s like what sixteen and Ocelot said he was ultra-naïve, at this rate I’m going to corrupt him something fierce._

“Sorry,” Bogomol said, “I can’t help but hear…”

 _FUCK_ Quiet gave him a strained smile. _this is going to take some getting used to, huh. (don’t think about anything weird) Hijack any giant robots lately?_

Bogomol shook his head. “I don’t think that’s very funny.”

“What?” Wolf said, “what?”

 _Okay sure kid but if you’re going to be listening to my unfiltered thoughts then you’re just going to have to get used to it._ Quiet crossed her arms. _So what, you almost drowned and for some reason Ocelot decided he was responsible for taking care of you? Because dropping you off at Mother Base and fucking off to Kuwait seems totally responsible_

“Ocelot’s in Kuwait?”

Quiet frowned. “Hmm.” _Yeah he’s looking for the Boss’ not-son, I thought you would have known._

“Not his specific location.”

_It’s an entire country, that’s not really that specific. Plus if you ask me if it’s IRAQIS who are holding him hostage or whatever then he’s probably in IRAQ._

“What is going on?” Wolf said. “Hey! This isn’t fair!”

Quiet signed something to Wolf. Bogomol didn’t know ASL but he could hear Quiet ‘saying’ it in her mind. “You don’t have to force yourself into every-“ _damn what’s the sign for that again_ “—conversation you’re nearby, Wolf. Nosy!”

“But I want to know what is going on!” Wolf protested.

“None of your business,” Quiet signed. She glanced at Bogomol. _So you were what, the little shit’s pet, right? Were you around when he got shot down?_

“…” Bogomol shook his head. “I was at the KGB.”

 _I didn’t mean literally like you were literally there with him. couldn’t have not known you were in the KGB if I tried holy shit Ocelot bitched about you so much, you’d think he was a single mom with an out-of-control child OH MY GOD tell me that is NOT the case here. Ocelot is_ not _your adopted dad, right?_

“What?” Bogomol said, suddenly flustered, “no, don’t be- that’s just ridiculous, why would you even—?”

_If you ask me ol’ Miller was completely up his ass when he kept trying to subtly accuse Ocelot of being a kid-diddler, but you know I don’t… really think I trust Ocelot around children. So, good._

“I’m seventeen,” Bogomol protested.

_And that is still underaged. Thanks for playing, kid._

“Hey!” Wolf said again.

Quiet gave her a condescending(?) pat on the head but otherwise kept ‘talking’ to Bogomol. _What I was trying to ask was if you’re still supposed to be close to the Boss’ fake crotchspawn. You had some kind of weird psychic symbiosis, yeah?_

Bogomol nodded again.

_…I’m sorry, kid. I know my mind’s not the nicest place but don’t think I don’t feel sorry for you and your friend. I really do hope Ocelot can find him and he’ll make it out okay. I mean that spaz was practically indestructible anyway, I’m sure he’ll be fine. You know? And if Ocelot’s involved in finding him like this then there’s no way that he won’t end up here somehow when he gets out of wherever the Iraqis are keeping their POWs. Hell, the Boss is pretty much expecting it, but you didn’t hear that from me. So I say you stick around ’til then and see him again and everything’s gonna be all hunky-dory. How about it?_

“You’re probably right,” Bogomol said quietly.

 _shit I think I made him upset. what to do now…_ Figuring she wouldn’t be very good at providing any kind of comfort and deciding to just give him space, Quiet turned back to Wolf and signed something about “time to go, let’s stop bothering him now” and took her hand, dragging her out of the room behind her. Wolf watched Bogomol over her shoulder the whole time Quiet was pulling her away.

The door clanged behind them, and it was silent once more. Bogomol blinked, then rubbed his eyes.

Oh. Seemed he’d almost started crying at some point. He hadn’t noticed.


	5. Chapter 5

“Oce… Ocelot!”

Ocelot maintained a careful distance from Bogomol’s bedside - though Bogomol jumped up anyway, rushing towards Ocelot with the apparent intent to hug or at least grab his hand, but Ocelot stopped him a cold look.

“Ocelot…” Bogomol said, quailing a bit, “I… I missed you.”

“Did you now?” Ocelot said, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought for sure that I wouldn’t, but… I did.” He looked at his feet - Ocelot gave him a more thorough glance over now that his gaze was directed elsewhere. He looked well, certainly much better than when Ocelot had left him here, and perhaps had even gained a few pounds over the last couple weeks.

“I assume they’ve been treating you well here, though.”

Bogomol nodded. “I actually like it a lot here, though I wish they’d give me back my mask. No one who comes in here knows where it is, and I don’t want to go outside this room without it - I haven’t left, the whole time I’ve been here…”

“Starting to get bored?” Ocelot said nonchalantly, then frowned. “That’s right, your mask. While we were transporting you here,” Bogomol didn’t need to be able to read Ocelot’s mind to assume the other person in ‘we’ was EVA, “—I discovered that the river water had completely ruined the filter. I left the mask in my office just in case it was that mask _in particular_ that worked for you and the filter had to be replaced, but it’d be more convenient if you could just use a new one, they’re not exactly in short supply around here…”

“A new one is fine,” Bogomol said, tilting his head slightly. “I don’t think the Boss would have any problem with me using one, either.”

“Of course he wouldn’t. I talked to him before I came over here, it seems he quite likes you.”

“…” Bogomol sat back down on the bed, now staring at his lap. “I’m not used to this. Everyone treating me like I’m… human, I mean. A very ugly human, but still human.”

There was a long pause.

“Um…”

“Do you need something, Bogomolechik?” Ocelot said dryly.

“I was just… nevermind.” He fidgeted a little. “So… I asked… um, I asked the- the Boss if I should have an assignment here if I’m supposed to stay, and I thought the intel team would—“

“Yes, V mentioned it,” Ocelot said. “He also mentioned that he was leaving the decision entirely up to me - normally he wouldn’t allow someone under 18 to hold an official post, but he’s making an exception for you since you already have work experience at the KGB.”

“…and…?”

“And I don’t see any issues with you joining the intel team. You’d certainly be of much better use _here_ than you ever were at the Lubyanka — we’re aware of more or less the full extent of your abilities, and you’re free to exercise them here without fear of being targeted by the University or others.” He gesticulated vaguely. “I’d assign you where you’d report directly to me, of course, but only because I’m much more familiar with your unique capabilities than anyone else. Though you won’t be starting any work until you’re completely recovered… how are your ribs?”

“They still hurt sometimes,” Bogomol said, “but then I just ask for some more painkillers and then they don’t bother me for a long time.”

“…right. Your metabolism’s so slow I suppose it _would_ take quite a while for any drugs in your system to burn off.”

“But I…” Bogomol stood back up, somewhat shyly. “I am glad you’re giving your approval for me to… work. I don’t want to just be a burden.”

Ocelot half-shrugged, somewhat noncommittally. It almost seemed like a gesture of modesty, though it _was_ Ocelot doing it…

“Reporting directly to you doesn’t sound terrible,” Bogomol said, then added, hesitantly, experimentally, “Otselyubyek.”

Ocelot stared at him. Bogomol flushed. Ocelot put a hand over his eyes, then dragged it down his face.

“Okay,” he said, turning around and grabbing the only chair in the room to sit down and tiredly rub his temples. “Okay. I already figured that you’d lied to V when you said you didn’t remember what happened before you collapsed.”

“S…sorry.”

“No, it’s better that you did.” Ocelot looked up, folding his arms. “I’m sure you understand now that you cannot tell _anyone else_ about what… we did?”

Bogomol nodded. Whatever his feelings towards Ocelot were, telling EVA about it had clearly been a mistake and he wasn’t eager to repeat it.

“But if you remember what happened before you collapsed, then I may as well tell you the real reason why I dumped you here — it was EVA’s idea, mostly.”

“Oh. It was?”

Ocelot nodded. “She was insistent that I cut all contact with you, but I convinced her that doing so would be harder on you than continuing to have me around.”

“I-“

“Don’t pretend otherwise, Bogomolechik, we both know how dependant you are on others and we both know that the person you’re currently outsourcing your emotional wellbeing to is none other than myself.”

“…” Bogomol looked at floor.

Ocelot sighed, leaned back in his chair. “Of course, EVA _did_ have a point. So this was the compromise: you come to Outer Heaven, start over with a new social circle and hopefully make some actual friends for once in your life. I’m away more often than I’m here, but I _am_ here often enough that you, hopefully, won’t feel distressed and abandoned due to my absence. Also, when I’m here we’re significantly less isolated than we were in Moscow - someone could walk in on us at any moment.” He waved a hand. “This sort of ‘supervised visitation’ arrangement should, in EVA’s mind at least, prevent any more… _discretions_ from taking place.”

“I… I see.” Bogomol wasn’t sure he wanted to call Ocelot out on that ‘in EVA’s mind’ disclaimer. There wasn’t really a point, was there? Ocelot was second-in-command at Outer Heaven, Bogomol seriously doubted that there’d be many people around with the _gall_ to walk in on them at any moment. They both knew that, too.

Wolf threw open the door as if summoned. “Ocelot’s back!!”

“Yes,” Ocelot sighed, “but only for a few days, Wolf.”

“Why you come see the ugly boy before you come see me?” Wolf demanded indignantly, putting her hands on her hips.

“Don’t refer to him as ‘the ugly boy’, Wolf, it’s rude. He has a name.”

“Yes, but is some stupid Russian thing I cannot pronounce!”

“I gave you an alternative…” Bogomol said meekly.

“Mantis sounds dumb, it is bug!”

“Your name is _Wolf_.”

“I take it you two get along famously,” Ocelot said coolly.

“Hmph!” Wolf turned up her nose. “Ocelot, I cannot believe you would brought someone like _this_ to Mother Base! He is so… so… oh, I don’t know the word, but-!“

“Doesn’t kowtow to you?” Ocelot said with a faint smile.

“What does that mean??”

Six months later.

“Ocelot’s back,” Wolf said, shielding her eyes against the sun as Pequod touched down on the command platform.

“Oh?” Bogomol said, looking over his shoulder, “that’s… strange… isn’t this a little soon?”

“Maybe it is related to the news we heard about the Soviet Union! If the KGB is gone…”

“…he has some free time?” Truly, Revolver Ocelot with _free time_ was a baffling and possibly frightening concept.

Ocelot was talking to Venom; Bogomol overhead in Venom’s mind him telling Ocelot that he just missed EVA, who had stopped by because she was coordinating with one of the combat teams on something but had been at Mother Base only overnight. Ocelot said he didn’t mind her having left already, if she had anything she needed to discuss with him then she could contact him herself, etc. etc…

Bogomol caught his eye, waved a little, not raising his hand much higher than his chest. Wolf elbowed him. In time Bogomol had learned that Wolf considered herself especially close to (in order) Quiet, Ocelot, and Venom, (and she wasn’t exactly _wrong_ but) therefore she felt threatened by how… close… Bogomol was to Ocelot.

Except they weren’t really that close, not anymore. Eli was still missing but Bogomol was no longer in a position where Ocelot was the only person remaining in his life. (And he wasn’t around much anyway.) Venom liked him, Quiet was very friendly towards him, EVA made a point of checking up on him every time she happened to be at Mother Base - though that was even _less_ frequent and much shorter visits than Ocelot — he and Wolf could technically be considered friends, he supposed, and after the past five or so months most of the intel team had warmed up to him though there wasn’t much friendship-feeling per se. The void left inside Bogomol by Eli’s disappearance hadn’t abated at all, but he felt comfortable enough without Ocelot around even if no one on Mother Base had yet matched the certain… _security_ that Bogomol had felt he’d had with Ocelot.

Though maybe it was just secure because it was stable, and stable because he could always count on Ocelot being a silver-tongued cool-hearted bastard.

“Ah, that’s right,” Ocelot said to Venom, giving Bogomol a polite little wave in turn, “I need to go talk to, _ahem_ , Psycho Mantis about something important.”

“?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, Boss. Just a little chat.”

Venom assumed some performance issues that Ocelot had been notified about, which of course would be Ocelot’s problem not his directly; Bogomol was a little annoyed at that, his actual _work_ he was quite good at and _Ocelot_ didn’t care about clashes in personality with the other intel team members. (And anyway, Bogomol wasn’t very confrontative.)

Ocelot sauntered over. “Wolf,” he said, nodding at her.

“If the Soviet Union is gone, does that mean you are not a communist anymore?” Wolf said.

“I wasn’t in charge of planning the economy, so why would I have been a communist in the first place? And don’t you have target practice you should be doing?”

“You just want me to leave.”

“I need to talk to Bogomol privately, now run along.”

Wolf did leave but was sure to direct a rude hand-sign towards Bogomol as she did. Ocelot rolled his eyes.

“I take it she’s still picking on you,” he said.

“Ah, well,” Bogomol said, fidgeting a little, “that’s just how she shows affection.”

“That could prove troublesome in the future. Anyway, let’s go somewhere we won’t be overheard.” Ocelot touched Bogomol’s shoulder briefly then started off in the direction of his office, not so much as glancing behind him to see if Bogomol was following. He was, though, rather meekly. He was a little nervous… ever since Bogomol had gotten off the medical platform (though the room he’d used did in fact end up being his permanently and he occasionally used it to sleep), he and Ocelot hadn’t been alone together at all. And back at the beginning when he _was_ still on the medical platform, Ocelot had never intentionally _invited_ Bogomol to come be alone with him somewhere…

Bogomol told himself to not be paranoid. True, the implications of being alone with Ocelot had changed, but if Ocelot were going to ‘commit an indiscretion’ on Mother Base, then he would have done so five or six months ago, right? Besides, the time in Moscow was Bogomol’s own fault and all that so he should probably just assume that Ocelot would never touch him if Bogomol didn’t initiate. Right?

“You seem preoccupied,” Ocelot commented, closing his office door behind them.

“…”

“Well, if you’re worried about something-“ He seemed deliberately uninterested in what was bothering Bogomol. “—I think you’ll like what I’m about to propose.”

“…eh…?”

Ocelot sat down at his desk and leaned back, kicking his feet up. “Now, I’m not saying that I don’t have certain new responsibilities that I have to attend to now that Russia is transitioning to an ostensibly new government. But the KGB is gone and that opens up some new avenues for me. Namely, a new approach to EVA’s request.”

“Finding Eli?” Bogomol said, blinking.

“Yes. That’s what I’d like to talk to you about.” He crossed his arms. “Are you aware of _how_ I’ve been searching for him?”

“No,” Bogomol said, finally sitting down in the spare chair in front of Ocelot’s desk.

“We have no formal intelligence whatsoever on his whereabouts - the group holding him and his comrades hostage have no affiliation, official or off-the-books, with the Iraqi government or military. We don’t even know who all is _in_ this group; there’s been three of the insurgents who were visible in some of the photos sent to coalition governments after the ceasefire, but all three of them were listed as KIA prior to it coming out that they were keeping POWs.” Ocelot sighed, somewhat pensively. “All three were from small villages with no military backgrounds, and joined the Army solely for the invasion. Because of that, we can assume that the compound where the POWs are being kept is either somewhere in Iraq or an isolated area in invaded Kuwaiti territory. We can rule out anywhere in Yemen or PLO-controlled land.”

“That’s still a lot of ground to cover…”

“Yes, it is. But with the apparent communications blackout in place, all we can do is literally go out and physically cover said ground. That’s much easier said than done, of course. The time investment we’re looking at is horrendous to begin with, and keeping the search quiet may end up being in Eli’s best interests. Obviously the insurgents might just go ahead and execute their hostages if they notice us getting too close, but we also have to consider that Eli in particular could be in danger if he gets rescued by the wrong people.”

Bogomol nodded. He hadn’t actually considered that, but figured Ocelot knew what he was talking about and furthermore had a point. The war in Iraq had been a short one, with relatively few casualties and POW/MIAs on the coalition side; the fact that Eli was still imprisoned a year on, and even worse by people with no tactical support, surely didn’t reflect well on the project that had created him. Maybe they should be wary of a coverup.

“So far all EVA and I have been able to do is spread an intelligence net,” Ocelot said, “and, naturally, I have V’s support in this as well so we were also using Outer Heaven’s HEC. There’s also been a handful of times where one of our intel field agents has investigated a potential location, but no dice so far… obviously. But now we have a new plan. It’s a bit of a longshot, but it _might_ work.”

“Well, what is it?” Bogomol said, sitting up a bit straighter.

“The fall of the Soviet Union means that ‘Shalashaska’ is out of work,” Ocelot said, with a small smile that looked more like a smirk. “I’ve discussed this with EVA already, and we both agreed that wherever Eli is, if he’s still alive then he’s making a nuisance of himself. We don’t think the Iraqis could break his will so easily.”

“What does this… oh.”

“Yes. The plan is to make them come to us. They’ve been living in isolation for over a year, but it’s doubtful that it’s _complete_ isolation - they could only prevent leaks by keeping this completely among themselves, meaning that wherever they are they only set up camp after capturing the downed SAS squadron. In other words, they don’t have the infrastructure to support themselves.”

“So,” Bogomol said, “they must be getting supplies from somewhere, and that would includes news of you…?”

“Exactly. As I said, a bit of a longshot, but with a bit of luck the very same insurgents we’re looking for will come straight to me seeking a solution to the all the hell I’m sure Eli’s raising. From there on out, retrieving Eli will be easy. I would just have to make a quick visit to confirm his location, and then get out of there without raising any suspicions… the plan is that once his location is confirmed, V deploys, but I’m aware that Eli might be, ah, _resistant_ to the possibility of seeing him again, so-“

“He’ll come here,” Bogomol said.

Ocelot raised his eyebrows. “Well, if you’re so certain, then…”

“I think I see a flaw in the plan, though,” Bogomol mumbled, squeezing his knees. “If you go to the compound to find him under the pretense that you’re coming there to torture him… wouldn’t you have to torture him so you don’t raise any suspicions?”

Ocelot shrugged. “An hour of torture in exchange for his freedom… I would think that’d be a trade-off that Eli’d be willing to take. Certainly his mother’s willing to take it.”

“…I suppose that isn’t so bad, then…”

“If this happens, Bogomolechik, you have my assurance that I’ll only do what is necessary to keep my cover. He may be close to death already and there’s no telling when or even _if_ this strategy will pay off.” He dropped his feet back to the floor, leaning forward towards Bogomol a bit. “I’ll go easy on him.”

There was a pause. Bogomol stared at his lap. After some time he took a deep breath and said, “Alright, what do you need my help with with this, then?”

“I’m hoping you could assist me in streamlining the whole process,” Ocelot said. “I’ll take you with me to meet with prospective clients. You read their minds to see if they know or might know anything at all about the missing coalition POWs. If they don’t, I can pass them over and not waste my time - or only take the job if necessary to spread the word that I’m looking for work, of course.”

“I see.” Bogomol tilted his head. “Do you already have a prospective client lined up?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Several. The first meeting is arranged for next week in Mosul. We’ll need a few extra days to travel on account of the no-fly zone.”

Bogomol nodded. “…wait. Will we be alone?”

“There’s no need to bring anyone else along, so yes.”

“…”

“If you’re worried about EVA finding out, I have something arranged already,” Ocelot said. “Your absence from Base will be explained by a temporary reassignment at an FOB. The paperwork’s all ready to go, if you decide to come with me.”

“You’re just going to lie about my location?”

“EVA will kill me if she finds out about this, so yes. But this whole plan _she_ came up with is entirely dependant on chance - speeding along the process may be our only shot at cashing in on our luck before Eli dies. I have no problem lying to her, the Boss, and everyone else in order to do that.”

“…I…” Bogomol clenched his hands into fists. “I don’t mind doing that, either.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.” Ocelot stood up. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning - early. It goes without saying that you shouldn’t tell anyone about this.”

Bogomol nodded again.

Ocelot stared at him for a moment, expression blank. “Just to be clear,” he said at length, “the only reason for the secrecy here is because EVA would misinterpret my… intent. I’ve been completely up front with you about what I want and expect out of you for the next few weeks. Nothing untoward will happen.”

Bogomol winced behind his mask. He didn’t have to be so blunt about it. “I wasn’t thinking that—“

“No, you clearly were. I don’t blame you, but I just wanted to make it clear that that kind of behavior won’t be- I mean, you have nothing to worry about. This is about finding Eli and finding Eli only.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now run along. You have some assignments to finish before we leave, don’t you?”


	6. Chapter 6

Mosul.

It sort of went without saying that the type of person who wanted to hire Ocelot was incredibly shady and came with an entourage of equally shady bodyguards. Bogomol wasn’t surprised at all by that - though he was a bit intimidated and did hide behind Ocelot, a little, peering at the “prospective client” from over his shoulder. He had no doubt in a worst case scenario Ocelot and his revolver would have the upper hand, but to that end Bogomol didn’t want to risk standing in _front_ of him.

What _was_ surprising about the meeting was the venue. It was the restaurant of a five-star Western-style hotel that catered to political elites — Ocelot had mentioned on the way here that he could have easily gotten a room for them here, but he never set up base in the same place as his contacts, and all of their ‘clients’ were in fact the clientele of this hotel. Bogomol and Ocelot were actually staying in a much smaller, cheaper, and shoddier inn some streets away… though the room had two beds this time, thank God.

“Who’s the boy?” the client said in thickly accented English, raising an eyebrow, after greetings were exchanged.

“My apprentice,” Ocelot said coolly. “There’s no need to directly address him - just pretend he isn’t here.”

“I see. I never knew the feared Shalashaska was interested in passing down his techniques. Come, sit down.” He gestured.

One of the bodyguards seamlessly pulled a chair over for Bogomol to sit in next to Ocelot, which he did, following Ocelot’s lead. “Well,” Ocelot was saying as he sat down, “perhaps losing my official position with the Soviets has made me a touch… nostalgic.”

“Hmm. Would you like anything to drink? or eat, perhaps? The Ninewah Oberoi has the finest menu in Mosul, if you ask me.”

“Don’t bother. This meeting won’t take long.”

“I suppose so.”

The client started going off on a very long spiel about the person that he wanted Ocelot to torture for him, something about stolen money, stolen wives, organized crime and espionage thereof. While the man was talking, Ocelot nudged Bogomol with his boot. It seemed almost like an accidental move - Ocelot didn’t so much as blink and certainly _looked_ like he was paying close attention to what the client was saying - but Bogomol knew he was just telling him to get a move on with the client’s mind.

Bogomol tilted his head slightly, but had no trouble reading the client’s thoughts - the man had no psychic defenses whatsoever, he’d never met a psychic before and it had never occured to him that he might need them. It turned out he was telling the truth, though he was so ruthless and corrupt himself that Bogomol really didn’t the slightest bit of sympathy for him getting swindled out of several billion dinars and having his wife, sister, and sister-in-law run off with the traitor. He wanted Ocelot to get him the location of the money and the women, with a side of revenge, but held nothing else interesting - or at least relevant - in his mind.

Just to be sure, Bogomol did a cursory check of the thoughts and memories of the client’s bodyguards. They had a variety of different backgrounds, and most of them had served in the war, and some of them had _heard about_ the insurgent group still trying to blackmail coalition governments despite the ceasefire and conspicuous lack of support from the Hussein regime. However, none of them had any actual relation to that group, or any new information.

Bogomol coughed twice, the signal that the meeting was useless. Ocelot didn’t outwardly react, but nonetheless the meeting was wrapped up in the next five minutes with Ocelot saying he’d consider the job, depending on what other offers he got in the area before he had to move on.

They left the hotel, but didn’t go far. Ocelot had already explained that they had several preliminary meetings arranged, starting with two today and three tomorrow - so they’d be returning to the hotel restaurant that afternoon. In the meantime, they had some time to kill, and Bogomol discovered that he had absolutely _no idea_ what Ocelot did when he had time to kill.

“Did you have something in mind?” Ocelot said.

“I… don’t know. What is there to do in this city?”

“It’s a city, Bogomolechik, you can do anything if you know where to go.”

That was a weird answer. “We could go watch a movie,” Bogomol said. He used to that with Eli a lot, when they didn’t have anything better to do - though Ocelot, unlike Eli, could actually pay for tickets instead of just sneaking in the back.

Ocelot gave Bogomol a rather unimpressed look. “That sounds boring,” he said flatly.

“…sorry.”

“Actually, now that I think about it, I do have an errand that I need to run that I could just do here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m running low on opiates,” Ocelot said so casually that for a moment it sounded completely normal, like needing to pick up milk from the grocery store or something.

“…ah. Um.”

Ocelot stared at him for just long enough that Bogomol started to get uncomfortable, then the corner of his mouth twitched. “If you want, we can go back to the inn and you can just stay there until we need to come back to the Ninewah Oberoi.”

Bogomol shook his head. He didn’t want to be alone in a strange city.

“Fine. Just stay behind me and keep quiet, then.”

With anyone else, Bogomol might have thought they were kidding - because who on Earth brings their young companion along on a drug deal? Though he supposed there was no risk of him reporting Ocelot for this… who would he even report him _to?_ Venom? Everyone in Outer Heaven knew about Ocelot’s drug problem. He was the one growing pot in the greenhouse in the first place.

The relevant part of town for buying opiates was a fair bit away from the hotel, so they got a taxi. Bogomol sat very still and very silent in the backseat next to Ocelot, who acted completely disinterested in him, looking out the window as Bogomol stared at his lap. The taxi driver felt incredibly awkward and didn’t bother making conversation.

Ocelot’s Mosul opiate dealer was significantly less suspicious-looking at first glance than the ‘client’ they’d met with earlier; he looked like an average man off the street who probably worked an average job when/if not busy with acquiring and selling heroin and pills. However, he gave off a sour vibe and Bogomol got the impression that if he tried to read his mind he’d probably just end up wanting to vomit.

“Ah, the old Russian bastard’s back in town,” the dealer said - his English was much better than the earlier client. “It’s been a while, eh?”

“I wouldn’t think you’d bother to remember me.”

“Cowboys are hard to forget.” He peered at Bogomol, who shifted his weight uncomfortably, hiding behind Ocelot. “You brought someone along?”

“That’s enough. I’m not here to make small talk.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Ocelot and the dealer walked off further into the house, leaving Bogomol just standing there for a moment before collecting himself and following sheepishly. The actual exchange of money and goods Bogomol didn’t pay attention to; he was distracted by the fact that the dealer kept glancing over at him and was gradually realizing that it was less a glance and more a leer.

“Do you want something?” Ocelot said dryly, catching the dealer’s look.

The dealer shook his head. “Who’s your little friend?”

“None of your concern.”

“She’s cute.” The leering got more pronounced, obvious. “Hey, hateh, why don’t you come party with someone who’ll feed you well? You’re s'ayniyo inyow, this cowboy isn’t taking care of you.”

“Um…?” Bogomol took a step back, glancing at Ocelot. He looked annoyed.

“I know how to keep a woman satisfied,” the dealer bragged, “as much heroin as you could ever want, money for all the finer things in life, and the best dick in Mosul! I’ll fatten you up and fuck you until you can’t walk! I’ll-…” he suddenly trailed off, frowning.

The reason why was obvious. Ocelot had quickly gotten fed up with him and was glaring, and Bogomol could swear the temperature of the room had dropped several degrees.

“He’s not interested,” Ocelot said coldly. Bogomol shivered.

“H-He?” All the blood drained from the dealer’s face. “Damn you, making me look like a mennuke…”

“Maybe next time stop to check the gender before making graphic comments.”

“Next time don’t bring a zanana!”

“I didn’t bring him for you to ogle.” Ocelot’s tone of voice clearly said that if the dealer continued arguing with him on this, no one would ever find his body. “Now, are we done here?”

“Yes. Time for you to go! Get out!!”

The dealer practically shoved them out of the house and slammed the door behind them. Ocelot, with no trace of his earlier icy anger aside from a slight irritated air to him, calmly put his new drugs in his pocket.

“…what just happened?” Bogomol said at length.

“I told you to cut your hair, didn’t I?”

* * *

In the evening they were back at the hotel restaurant, and the client they were interviewing this time was a woman accompanied by a single man, and she didn’t waste time telling them the whole story of why she wanted someone tortured, just laid out the price she was willing to pay. She spoke Russian. Since the meeting was short, Bogomol worked fast — the woman had no affiliation to any rogue military groups, at least in this country. The person she wanted tortured was a subordinate of hers who had “lost” a shipment of several tons of cocaine during sea transport, and she wanted to make an example out of him. The man with her was her cousin and acted as some sort of bodyguard-secretary hybrid.

The man himself had cybernetic implants, which came as an unpleasant surprise to Bogomol. There was nothing in the woman’s mind about him having any possible relation to Eli, and she knew his background very well, but Bogomol found it suspicious enough to cough once.

“I see,” Ocelot said, not taking his eyes off the woman. “I’ll consider it. I only have so much time here, and you may yet be outbid, but you _have_ made a very compelling offer.”

“I trust you’ll be in touch within the next few days, then,” the woman said. She stood - Ocelot, then Bogomol, followed suit. “Take care, then.”

“You as well.”

Again they got a taxi, this time getting out a few blocks away from their inn. The ride was silent. Ocelot got some grilled red carp from a street vendor - he hadn’t eaten at the restaurant - and offered some to Bogomol, but he just shook his head. Aside from that, they didn’t talk on the walk back, either. It was starting to get chilly outside.

“Did they know anything?” Ocelot said as soon as the door to their room was closed, getting straight down to business.

“I’m not sure. The woman didn’t, but the man with her had implants.”

“Was that the only suspicious part?”

Bogomol looked at his feet. “Yes,” he said. “It’s not very likely that he knows anything, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Ocelot said, “but at present it’d be more worth our time to look into it than not.”

“I… yes.”

Ocelot sat down on his bed, rubbing his face. “But that’s for tomorrow night, and pending us finding something better to go on from one of the ‘clients’ tomorrow. For tonight I need to get some sleep.”

“Ah.”

Ocelot stood back up, digging the newly bought drugs out of his pocket and tossing them at Bogomol. “Here,” he said, and then added before Bogomol could get confused or indignant about it, “put that in my case.”

“Okay.”

Ocelot disappeared to the bathroom. Bogomol did as he asked, not looking too closely at the other contents of the case, then took the other bed. He faced towards the wall and pretended to be asleep by the time Ocelot came back out.

He rolled over when he thought Ocelot had passed out. Ocelot had his back to him.

* * *

The next day went quickly; with more meetings, there was no awkward break during which Bogomol and Ocelot had to find something else to kill time with. One of the clients paid for lunch at the hotel restaurant, though Bogomol only had a drink and got a slightly disapproving look from Ocelot for picking an alcoholic one, the hypocritical old fuck. All three meetings were completely useless; they all wanted Ocelot to interrogate/torture someone who had nothing to do with Eli or the insurgent group by any stretch of the imagination. Bogomol got similar dead ends with the clients and associated rabble themselves. By evening they were back at the inn, and Ocelot was getting ready to go.

“So, which one, then…?” Bogomol said.

“The one with the suspicious bodyguard,” Ocelot replied. “Some people are more talkative _watching_ an interrogation than getting interrogated - I’ll see what I can do, but don’t expect much.”

“I know.”

Ocelot paused at the door. “I don’t suppose you want to catch the show?” he said - not in a hopeful tone of voice or anything, just a polite offer.

Bogomol shook his head, maybe a little too emphatically. He wasn’t a fan of torture. Maybe he wasn’t nearly as averse to it as a normal seventeen-year-old would be, but that didn’t mean he wanted to _watch_. Especially if Ocelot was the one carrying it out. Bogomol knew what Ocelot was like about… that.

“Suit yourself,” Ocelot said. “Stay out of trouble.” He left. The door locked meaninglessly behind him.

So Bogomol once again found himself alone in a hotel room with nothing to do. At least now it was only for one night. And Bogomol had seen this coming anyway and had put a few books in his away bag. Ocelot could go about his business and find out if the one sticking point so far actually lead anywhere, and Bogomol could spend a quiet night in just reading and not thinking about anything depressing…

…though what he actually ended up doing was lying on his bed, draping an open book over his lens to block out light, and retreating into a by now very well-worn fantasy of showing up at some ambiguous, generically-detailed prison camp somewhere in a desert and finding Eli, taking him in his arms, and carrying him out of there. Imagining Eli’s gratitude and relief always sent weird little shivers down his spine that he refused to try to identify. He just wanted Eli safe, returned. Home.

He’d be so happy.

The room phone rang. Bogomol sat up so fast he catapulted his book halfway across the room. For half a moment all he could do was stare at the phone like it’d assaulted him, then it rang again and he quickly picked up.

“Hello?” he said hesitantly.

“The cousin with the implants isn’t here,” Ocelot said.

“Oh.”

“Honestly, this isn’t going to change anything on my end. It could very well be meaningless.”

“Then why did you call…?”

“Because it might not be, and we might have gotten set up,” Ocelot said. “Just… be careful.”

Bogomol glanced at the window. It was dark out but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “What do you mean?”

“Close the curtains and if anyone comes to the door, pretend you’re not there. I’ll just let myself in when I get back, so don’t worry about that. If something _does_ happen, keep a cool head. You tend to forget how powerful you are when you panic, Bogomolechik.”

“Ah…”

“I have to go now. Keep an eye out.” He hung up.

Bogomol looked out the window again, this time reaching out with his mind. Since it was dark, there weren’t very many people out in the streets - and there was no one out there harboring thoughts of him or Ocelot or their particular inn. They were quite unnoticed here. Still, Bogomol did as Ocelot said and closed the curtains, and turned off the room light for good measure. No one needed to know this room was occupied.

…unless they’d already seen him in there.

Despite himself, Bogomol pulled the curtain just a bit to the side and peeked out. The street looked the same as before, dry and empty and illuminated only by windows. No one whose thoughts he could read was noticing anything suspicious.

On the roof of a building across the street, he saw a funny glint just half a second before the window shattered.

Immediately Bogomol panicked, going completely shock still like a startled rabbit. Somebody besides the sniper must be watching the room. Maybe if he didn’t react, they would move on. That line of thought was shattered when another divot appeared in the wall opposite the window. The rifle was silenced.

Bogomol’s fight-or-flight reflex tipped, as usual, to flight, which became quite literal as he escaped by phasing through the ceiling on finding himself suddenly on the roof of the inn with his head spinning and his whole body stinging. He hadn’t phased through solid objects in _years_ and had surprised himself with still being able to do that.

He wasn’t sure if he was also still able to turn himself invisible - something else he hadn’t done since he hit puberty - but it was unneeded up here between his dark clothing and the fact that the sniper seemed to still be trained on the window below him. Bogomol quickly fled, drifting from roof to roof, away from… whoever these people were.

He had to find a phone.

* * *

Ocelot wiped the blood of his hands and answered his phone. “Who is this and what do you-“

“Ocelot!” With just that one word he could hear the tears in Bogomol’s voice. “Ocelot, we got set up after all, they’re after me!!”

“What?” Fuck. He knew he should have brought Bogomol with him, though if somebody wanted to use the kid to blackmail Ocelot they were in for a nasty surprise. “Who? And why are you calling from a payphone?”

“I-I don’t know. I did as you said, but there- there was a sniper, the window… I ran… I, I am not sure where I am right now…”

Ocelot sighed. “You remember the place we went to yesterday? Go back there, then call me and stay put. That man won’t cross me if he knows what’s good for him. Go now.”

“Now?”

“What’s the matter?”

“I think they’re close by,” Bogomol whispered. “I think I hear them.”

“Then keep quiet,” Ocelot said, annoyed, “and keep a cool head, like I told you.”

“I think- oh— ow-“ The distinctive clank of a phone being dropped and snapping at the end of its cord, followed by muffled screaming from multiple people - somehow Ocelot could pick out the highest-pitched one as Bogomol - then sudden, unsettling silence, then the sound of footsteps and the payphone being unceremoniously hung up.

“…” Ocelot put his phone back in his pocket and turned to the client.

“Something the matter?” she said.

“Your cousin. Where is he?”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “I don’t recall telling you he was my-“

Ocelot, without changing his expression or giving any other kind of warning, seized her by the throat. “Where is he?” he repeated, more forcefully.

“I— I don’t know!” the woman gasped, clawing at his hand, “something from one of his other jobs came up… I don’t know what it is…! I don’t even know where he works, he—“

Ocelot squeezed.

The woman kicked her legs ineffectually. “Moscow,” she choked, “he said he had a flight back to Moscow he had to catch.”

“Hm.”

“You won’t get away with this-!”

“What is he doing in Moscow?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t understand… he said…” her eyelids fluttered, “Leningrad…”

Ocelot dropped her to the floor. She coughed and wheezed, putting a hand to her throat. Ocelot frowned. A place with Leningrad in the name, but it was near Moscow?

Well, this wasn’t good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess it kinda goes without saying knowing me, but the Ninewah Oberoi Hotel is in fact a real hotel in Mosul that did in fact cater to political elites under Saddam Hussein. However, it’s totally defunct nowadays since Daesh took it over (and then got kicked out).
> 
> I looked up Iraqi slang words for the dealer’s dialogue but I can’t really vouch for accuracy… “hateh” means roughly “beautiful woman” or “sexy lady”, “sʻayniyo inyow” means “very skinny”, “mennuke” means “faggot”, and “zanana” means “man who looks like a woman”. You know, supposedly.


	7. Chapter 7

Ocelot was a very capable man, but he was still more or less limited by the laws of physics, so he wasn’t able to catch up with Bogomol’s abductors before they left Mosul. He was also unable to delay their flight, since he didn’t know where they were flying out from after they got out of the no-fly zone — and to be honest, he really thought it’d be a dumb move on their end to take anything other than a private aircraft. Ocelot couldn’t exactly call in a bomb threat on those.

So he let the bug slip the line. The next morning he got in touch with an old contact at the Leningrad University of Parapsychology, a friend of a friend he hadn’t had to bother with in years. They excitedly confirmed the reacquisition of who they suspected to be a missing test subject from many years ago, and prattled on about how studying him would be exactly what they needed to secure continued funding from the new Russian government, and he was their only hope, and without him the University would go broke in no time…

Ocelot hung up. That confirmed it. Bogomol’s worst nightmare had come true.

He was out of Ocelot’s hands now.

This was convenient - very convenient. True, keeping Bogomol around for his psychic powers had proved to be a plus, but Ocelot would happily trade that away to not have to deal with the emotional issues, mutual awkwardness, and EVA breathing down his neck about statutory rape. At the University, Bogomol would be taken care of… physically, anyway… and _certainly_ kept out of trouble; if Ocelot needed, for whatever reason, an update on his condition, he could simply call — if he needed to borrow him, he could pass out a few bribes, maybe keep him appropriately drugged… it was very easy now.

He should have done this _years_ ago. Or at least after Eli got shot down - Bogomol wasn’t exactly useful for keeping on eye on him too by extension after the letters stopped coming in.

Ocelot stared at the other, empty bed in the motel room with his hands pressed together in front of his face.

This was very convenient for him… so why was he having this weird feeling about it? Like abandoning him to the University could backfire somehow?

No… that had to be it, right? It _could_ backfire. It was just _too_ convenient. Ocelot shouldn’t entrust his little project to anyone other than himself, of course. That was what was bothering him… he’d sunk all this effort into Bogomol, and then tried to talk himself into simply shrugging his shoulders and letting him go when those annoying scientists got ahold of him again? He must be crazy. Maybe that leering idiot had put something funny in his heroin.

Because _obviously_ he couldn’t just cut Bogomol loose. His contact said that Bogomol was the University’s last hope at getting government funding, and they would go broke without him - but _come on_. A single teenager, holding down their whole budget? Well, maybe when he was still a _child_ , but his powers had started to dwindle. Still the most powerful living psychic Ocelot was aware of, but some of the interest in him would, necessarily, have waned. And maybe in the course of their experimentations they would further ruin his brain, and his remaining powers would fade as well. So, clearly - the University was _going_ to go broke. And what happened when Eastern research institutions lost their money? Why, all their subjects got turned out into the wild, of course. Fell through the cracks. Ocelot would be back to square one with him - optimistically speaking. Maybe Bogomol would remember Ocelot, and remember how he _abandoned_ him, and come after him for revenge. He might just be a kid, and he might not be able to read Ocelot’s mind, but he was not an enemy Ocelot wanted to have. Furthermore, on the flip-side of that, if Ocelot was somehow responsible for getting Bogomol back _out_ of the University’s clutches, then he would cement his loyalty in a way that fucking him on his kitchen table couldn’t.

Satisfied with his logic, Ocelot sat back and started to formulate a rescue plan. The whole mental exchange took about ten minutes.

The obvious option was just to waltz right in and get Bogomol himself. No fuss, no mess, perfectly plausible - except for the part where the University was in no way going to be willing to give him up, even if Ocelot bribed them. He could threaten them, or even kill anyone who stood in his way, but he kind of _did_ want to stay on good terms with the new Russian government. It would be some time before the dust settled and Ocelot could start playing nice; time that he nor Bogomol had.

But as long as he didn’t _personally_ do it, the chances of it being tied back to him were fairly low, especially if any investigation could only trace it back to Outer Heaven; Bogomol was technically an enlisted soldier here, so a move to get him back under Venom’s banner wouldn’t be suspicious. (As long as it, again, wasn’t Ocelot himself, because that would make it seem like he had _split loyalties_ or something.) This was exceedingly convenient and gave Ocelot literally hundreds of people at his disposal for undoing this little medical kidnapping gaffe, including some of the best soldiers in the world.

Except EVA would absolutely, literally murder him if she found out that Ocelot had ran off with Bogomol by himself. Even if he proved they didn’t do anything sexual - because they _hadn’t_ — she was going to view it as Ocelot’s fault that Bogomol got abducted even though it _wasn’t_. At the very least she’d never talk to him again. So Ocelot needed a way to keep this secret from EVA, which ruled out everyone at Outer Heaven, putting Ocelot back at square one. What he needed was someone who wouldn’t talk to—-

Wait.

* * *

Every time Quiet thought she more or less got a handle on Ocelot’s bullshit he liked to pull the rug out from under her. This time he was asking her a favor (not unusual) that she couldn’t tell Venom about (had precedent) and she had to come all the way to _Russia_ for (she hadn’t been here since before she got set on fire and thrown out a window). It was fucking _cold_ and she could barely breathe wearing the bare minimum of clothing required to keep her from getting frostbite or something. Actually she was probably going to get that anyway.

“So much for not attracting attention,” Ocelot said, eyeing her shorts. Quiet grunted at him.

So exposed legs were an unusual sight in the driving snow of Russia in the middle of winter - c’mon, she needed those to breathe. As soon as she was off the helipad and into Ocelot’s car she was stripping.

“Not a fan of cold weather, huh?”

She threw her coat at him.

“I’m _driving_. Anyway, I assume you have a lot of questions about what I need your help with so I’ll give you the summary on the way there. We’re headed to the Leningrad University of Parapsychology.”

Quiet cocked her head. She thought she’d heard that name before, but couldn’t place where.

“That’s the place where Bogomol was being transported to the night he dropped into our lives. After nearly a decade, they finally caught him.”

Quiet raised her eyebrows in the rear view mirror. She didn’t need to use ASL to get the “And how did _that_ happen” across.

Ocelot sighed. “He was helping me gather information in Mosul. We didn’t take any special steps to conceal his identity - though _how_ we would even do that in the first place, I have no idea — someone we crossed paths with must have tipped off the University somehow or another. They sent armed goons after him when I left him by himself at the inn- _yes_ ,” he said, like Quiet could interrupt him, “I _know_ that was a bad idea, but I wasn’t expecting anything to happen and more to the point, I overestimated Bogomol’s ability to keep calm. He panicked and because of that was captured. He’s absolutely useless when he’s panicking, I hope you know that.”

“Why bother getting him back if he’s useless?” Quiet signed.

“He’s not useless if he’s got his head on straight, be reasonable. Anyway, I know his location, or at least which building they’ll be keeping him in. Just get in, grab him, get out. Quick and discreet. Can’t imagine it’ll be a hard job for you.”

“Why is this secret?”

“Because EVA is not going to be happy with me if she finds out I took Bogomol to Mosul in the first place.”

God, Quiet would never not find it funny that Ocelot was scared of EVA. She’d never been able to place what it was that gave her that ability - if she could have, she would have imitated it; she’d asked EVA about it once but she just made a vague comment about how she couldn’t really see Ocelot as an actual adult instead of a bratty tryhard 20-year-old with a baby face. Which was a hilarious mental image but not very helpful advice.

“EVA is in way too deep with the whole ‘mother’ thing,” Ocelot complained, “to her, it’ll be unacceptable for me to exploit a teenager’s powers like that, and inadvertently put him in danger, even if the whole _point_ was to find _her_ son. Bogomol came willingly.”

If he could justify it this well, he might as well try to explain himself to EVA… next time she came around Mother Base, which would likely be months from now at best. Seriously, what was he so worried about? Was he really so wrapped up in his obsession with backup plans and contingencies that it never occured to him just let the whole thing blow over?

Ah well, there was no point to Quiet complaining. She at least understood why Ocelot wasn’t about to walk in there _personally_ , and discretion aside, it wasn’t like Quiet was a bad pick for a mission that amounted to ‘get in, grab the boy, get out’. Too bad Ocelot didn’t know the exact location. She could just jump in through his window. Not that it was going to take her too long to search the building…

It took a while to get to the University, mostly with Ocelot unwilling to talk about anything substantial. As usual he ended up turning into a boring broken record of slightly uncomfortable small talk. Quiet knew him better than that, though — she was pretty sure he was _worried_. She was even starting to think he was worried about something _other_ than EVA kicking his ass for losing Bogomol.

The University was a typical ugly Soviet brutalist building, rendered even grayer and bleaker by the snowstorm they were in the middle of. Somehow Quiet assumed there would have been more than one building on campus - but then again, this was a research institution dedicated to _parapsychology_. Not that it wasn’t a real field, but research subjects were pretty hard to come by, which is why Ocelot needed her help.

“I shouldn’t show my face here,” Ocelot said as Quiet shrugged her stupid suffocating coat back on and stepped out of the car, “but you know where to find me when you’re done.” He drove off. Quiet did not, in fact, know where to find him when she was done, but suspected Ocelot would magically appear anyway.

Okay, time to get this shit-show on the road.

Getting into the building was a piece of cake; security was tight but Quiet could just waltz right through it no problem, perks of being a parasite swamp monster abomination and all. Still invisible, she tied her coat around her waist, looking around. She never went to college, but if she had to guess then she supposed this place looked more like a standard hospital than a proper university. Not that that helped with the navigation issue; there wasn’t exactly signage that said _THIS WAY TO THE KIDNAPPING VICTIM TORTURE CHAMBER_ on the walls. Though even if there were she wouldn’t be able to read them. And didn’t know Russian anyway.

(Okay, she knew ‘torture chamber’ in Russian, but that was Ocelot’s fault.)

Well, if Bogomol was their top priority project, then it stood to reason that he would be in the highest security accommodations the University had to offer. Those were usually in the basement, or, if the building didn’t have a basement, the very top floor. Quiet looked around until she saw a set of stairs leading down. _Basement it is, then_ , she thought.

She was downstairs in a second. Hm. Multiple hallways with multiple rooms. Even she would have to take longer than she _really_ wanted to checking each one. But Ocelot had said Bogomol was really all the University had going for them, right? She looked around and spotted a white guy in a labcoat. Might as well follow him.

Good thing she did, anyway, because he ended up using a keycard to enter Bogomol’s room - meaning it would have been a hassle for Quiet to get in on her own. It wasn’t immediately obvious that it actually _was_ Bogomol’s room, frankly — the figure in the bed was tiny, wrapped in gauze, and smothered in blankets. The only thing that pointed to him being Bogomol was the bright red hair; but where it had once been long and curly it was now closely cropped and completely shaved off on one side. (So far as Quiet could tell. There was a bandage there.)

Labcoat man checked some vitals and replaced the IV bag. Somehow Quiet _knew_ it wasn’t just saline. He jotted something down on an incomprehensible chart pinned to the wall and left after that, locking the door behind him. She’d deal with that in a second.

There were no security cameras; though there was a place on the wall where one had obviously been but had since been removed; she figured the little psychic bug boy had been fucking shit up since he came here, so that was what had happened to that. _Thanks_ , she thought, revealing herself and standing up straight. Made things a hell of a lot easier. She approached the bed, touched him gently to wake him up.

Only one eye was visible beneath the bandages on his face but it was bright ice blue and that confirmed it was Bogomol. It also confirmed that the kid was higher than giraffe pussy.

Well, it was better that he was calm, anyway, right?

She picked him up, blankets and all. He was light, which was maybe not good but at least convenient, but he didn’t have Quiet’s parasites on him so she couldn’t just make him invisible too and just walk out. Nor would it be a good idea to just bum rush the door. Quiet groaned. She would actually have to _sneak_. Not that she was terrible at that but _come on_ , she was a scout-sniper, she wasn’t Venom.

Also, the only way she could think of to open the door was to kick the lock til it broke. Wasn’t it a fire hazard to have doors that couldn’t be unlocked from the inside? …did former Soviet states even care about that? It didn’t matter, there was no one outside the door so—

Oh shit that was a security camera.

Well, fuck it, Bogomol was a paid member of the Outer Heaven PF and they had every right to get him back by any means necessary after he was _literally kidnapped_. She flashed the Outer Heaven logo on her uniform at the camera, then for good measure, flipped it off; the building’s alarm started blaring as if in response to that.

Quiet bum rushed the front door.

 _BANG_. The door bounced against the walls as Quiet tore through them, out into the snowstorm. Bogomol whimpered in her arms at the sudden drop in temperature. She held him tighter and jumped across the campus until she reached the road, where Ocelot suddenly appeared with a screech of brakes.

“Why do I hear sirens?” he said blandly as Quiet opened the car door to dump Bogomol in the backseat.

Quiet sat in the passenger seat with a huff. “You almost hit me,” she signed at him.

Ocelot ignored her, instead angling the rear-view mirror to look at the twitching lump in the backseat. “You drive,” he said abruptly, getting up and climbing into the backseat next to Bogomol.

“???” For second Quiet thought she grabbed the wrong kid - moreover, she wasn’t much of a driver.

“What are you waiting for?” Ocelot said irritably, unwrapping Bogomol from his blanket. “Drive!”

…

Quiet kept one eye on the backseat as she drove. Ocelot apparently just _could not_ wait until they were back at Mother Base to examine Bogomol (or hand him over the medical team, which was really what he _should_ be doing.) He looked pretty bad under the bandages - honestly worse than he had when Quiet had first found him, though at least the University had had the courtesy to remove the old stitches. God only knew how long they’d been embedded in his skin. Probably took actual surgery to get them out.

Bogomol started making distressed little noises - did they _seriously_ forget to bring an extra gas mask just in case of, well, this? — Ocelot shushed him and pulled a syringe out of nowhere as he was wont to do, injecting the side of Bogomol’s neck and calming him right down again. The whole time Ocelot was murmuring to him in Russian, so softly that Quiet was sure she wasn’t meant to hear whatever he was saying. Not that she could understand it anyway.

But, it sounded comforting somehow, and that was funny enough. Like Ocelot really was supposed to be some sort of father figure for Bogomol. She didn’t want to believe it. Ocelot of all people, falling for the parenting thing? Sure, Venom did that 100%, Miller had ran off because he felt the need to take responsibility for some whore’s pregnancy, even Quiet had informally adopted Wolf - but this was _Ocelot_.

Once again: Every time Quiet thought she more or less got a handle on Ocelot’s bullshit, he liked to pull the rug out from under her. She supposed Ocelot wasn’t immune to mid-life crises like the rest of them after all. And it wasn’t like he was about to settle down with a woman or anything, so an emotionally unstable teenager probably sufficed. If Bogomol weren’t like literally half-dead in Ocelot’s lap Quiet would laugh and tease him about it.

…and give him some tips on what kind of touchy-feely was acceptable for a parent; Quiet didn’t have much Ocelot’s backstory unlocked but _everyone_ knew he’d never had a solid paternal/maternal figure in his life. Quiet cleared her throat.

“Yes?” Ocelot said, the concerned parent demeanour suddenly evaporating. “Can’t you drive any faster?”

“Worried?” Quiet signed with one hand.

“I’d rather get him back to the medical platform sooner rather than later. I’m strongly considering never letting him leave Mother Base again.”

 _Damn, strict_ , Quiet thought. The concept of Ocelot as a parent was hard enough to swallow, but not being a negligent one was even weirder.

Ocelot sighed, rubbing a thumb over the point on Bogomol’s neck where he injected him. Quiet’s smirk started to fade. He _did_ seem worried. Poor Ocelot. He didn’t often _get_ worried, his neuroses were usually way too well buried. In fact, the last time she’d seen Ocelot like this was years ago when—-

Ohh, _fuck_.

Oh shit _no_. Quiet had to stop herself from audibly gasping or slamming on the breaks in shock. Oh hell no! - the _last_ time anyone’d seen Ocelot like this, all worried and fussy, was the last time Kazuhira Miller got all fucked up. That same Kazuhira Miller that Ocelot had actually managed to develop some kind of psychotic crush on after fucking around with him for nine years. _That’s_ what he was acting like. He was acting like he and Bogomol were _fucking_.

 _This explains goddamn everything!_ Why didn’t she see it before?! Why was she dumb enough to think Ocelot was _that_ kind of daddy?? Now that she realized it, it was obvious - no wonder Ocelot had brought Bogomol to Outer Heaven in the first place — what the _fuck_.

“Is something the matter, Quiet?” Ocelot said, tearing himself away from Bogomol long enough to raise an eyebrow at her.

Quiet frowned. What was she supposed to do about this? She could tell Venom that Ocelot was a P-E-D-O but he was pretty much hardwired to believe whatever crap Ocelot told him. He could probably walk in Ocelot rawing Bogomol in his office and still have trouble accepting that Ocelot’s sexual depravities extended outside of Room 101. (Not that Venom really acknowledged that Ocelot made that shit sexual anyway.) And without Venom’s support, Quiet didn’t feel comfortable getting anyone else involved. It was _Ocelot_. Anything could happen with him. Plus… she could be wrong. Maybe Ocelot only had literally one way to express affection and it was Quiet’s fault for associating it with Miller.

Then again, he _did_ tell her specifically not to tell EVA. At this point, she didn’t think it was because Ocelot took Bogomol to Mosul. Or, well, _just_ because he took him there. More like the possibility that Ocelot hadn’t booked a room with two beds and _for fuck’s sake Bogomol was like seventeen and Ocelot was pushing FIFTY_.

Quiet shook her head, and kept driving.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fwiw I think this is actually the chapter where rubyfruitjungle started writing as well, AO3 just doesn't let you edit co-authors for individual chapters after you've already saved the draft

“You took off his bandages and _removed his stitches_ with a _knife_ in a _moving vehicle_ ,” Ghost Gull scolded Ocelot.

“I had to see if-“

“That’s _our job_ , that’s what you’re _paying_ us for!”

“The extent of his injuries could have effect how much sedative to give him to keep him knocked out until we got a mask for him again,” Ocelot dismissed Ghost Gull, quite rudely.

“What part of that necessitates taking out his stitches?”

“They sewed up his mouth again — you mean to tell me you were going to just leave them there?”

“We’d remove them with sterile equipment _not in a moving vehicle_ , sir.”

“Let me see him.”

“Not now. The sedatives _you_ gave him haven’t fully worn off.”

Ocelot scoffed. “That’s not a problem.”

“Sir, with all due respect, fuck off,” Ghost Gull said, knowing full well Venom always took the med team’s side.

However, this was immediately undermined - before Ocelot could stalk off, temporarily defeated, Bogomol opened the door to his isolation room himself. He was very pale - most of the bandages had been reaffixed — he obviously should not have been standing.

“Otselyubyek?” he said, ignoring Ghost Gull immediately turning around and attempting to shoo him back to bed.

“I told you, don’t call me that,” Ocelot said irritably, “especially not in front of other people.”

“Did you come to visit me?” Bogomol said, ignoring him.

“You don’t need visitors right now, you need rest,” Ghost Gull said.

“Oh… Gull, just let him come in. He saved me, I haven’t thanked him properly, I…”

Ghost Gull sighed - loudly - and gave up, letting Ocelot do whatever he wanted. He almost expected Quiet to _bamf_ out of nowhere to stop him; she’d been shooting him suspicious looks ever since they got back. It almost made Ocelot think he’d given himself away, but he wasn’t sure how; somehow, he still felt a bit scattered from that whole mess.

He closed the door behind him.

“That was irresponsible of you,” Ocelot said before Bogomol could say anything.

“Wh…?”

“You just _ran off_ , didn’t you? You didn’t even make a token attempt at fighting back. If you had, none of this would have happened.”

Bogomol flushed, sitting back down on his bed. “I was scared.”

“So you did nothing?”

“I… I was too scared to-…”

Ocelot scoffed. “If you’re going to completely lose your head when you’re scared, then it’s better to let loose and start destroying things instead of letting fear paralyze you and becoming an easy target. You _used_ to lash out — what happened? You decided whimpering inaction was a better option for a little boy all on his own?”

“I wasn’t all on my own!”

There was a tense silence for a moment at the double meaning of what Bogomol had said; the way he’d learned to be docile and helpless because he had Eli around to protect him (and, perhaps, potentially be hurt if Bogomol lost control) — and the plain and simple fact that this was _really_ all Ocelot’s fault.

“I overestimated you,” Ocelot said bluntly. “I shouldn’t have left you on your own.”

Bogomol stared at his lap. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“And you should have followed the instructions I gave you over the phone.”

“…” Bogomol’s hands - wrapped in bandages from the burns he’d given himself freaking out at the University - tightened until Ocelot saw him wince. “At least you came to get me back.”

“That was Quiet.”

“I remember you…”

“I had to clean up my mess, don’t read into it. You’re a valuable member of Outer Heaven and, more importantly, EVA would kill me if I just left you there. Assuming she won’t kill me for taking you to Mosul in the first place. That was a mistake.”

“…I just want to help find Eli…”

“You’ll be of more help staying out of the way and not getting into trouble,” Ocelot said, “we’re not going to have any repeats of this situation - meaning I’m _not_ letting you off this base ever again. You’re going to stay here where people can keep an eye on you.”

“But—“

“EVA and I can find Eli by ourselves. Besides, we’re using the intel team here as an operations base - it isn’t like you’re going to be taken out of the loop entirely. But I won’t allow you to put yourself at risk and cause trouble for me.”

Bogomol was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered at length, on the verge of tears.

 _God damn it, this fucking kid._ Ocelot sighed and sat down on the bed next to Bogomol, awkwardly patting his shoulder. “Forget about it, Bogomolechik. Forget about the whole thing. It wasn’t like you didn’t already owe me your life, anyway.”

Bogomol sniffled.

“Just leave everything to me, hmm?”

“Mmn.” Bogomol leaned towards Ocelot, putting his arms around his shoulders - Ocelot lowered his hand to his waist — Bogomol moved in for a-

Quiet flipped over the bedside table with a loud crash.

“Figures,” Ocelot said as Bogomol practically jumped out of his skin.

“I knew it! I knew it!” Quiet materialized and signed angrily at him. “I didn’t want to be right but I was!”

“Bogomol, why didn’t you notice her? How long has she been in here?”

“I think she walked in when you did… I wasn’t paying attention…”

“Pedophile! Kid-fucker! He’s seventeen, you sick fuck!” Quiet signed in the background, ignored in her silent fury. “I’m going to tell the Boss about this!”

“He’s not going to believe you,” Ocelot said, “no one is.”

“EVA,” Quiet signed.

“Besides her. She doesn’t even work here, though.”

Quiet drew a thumb across her throat.

“You can’t tell her anything until she comes here in person,” Ocelot said, “and she can’t do anything to me if I’m conveniently off-Base next time she’s around.”

“What?” Bogomol said, alarmed. “No, don’t go.”

“Stop throwing yourself at me and I’ll consider it.”

Quiet bodily dragged Ocelot out of the room.

* * *

Really, though, it wasn’t hard for Ocelot to get away from his new self-appointed chaperone — mostly because he and Bogomol weren’t actually around each other for the rest of the day, meaning Quiet didn’t actually have to be there to make sure they left room for Jesus. (As she probably would have put it if she weren’t so angry at Ocelot.) She went back to minding her own business when night fell and she confirmed Bogomol was fast asleep in his own room on the medical platform - and Ocelot was harmlessly holed up in his room on the command platform, working on paperwork and generally avoiding everyone.

“Come in,” he said, when someone knocked on his door.

Bogomol stood silhouetted in the doorway.

“What do you want now? You aren't supposed to leave the Medical Platform under any circumstances."

Bogomol did not reply and instead just quietly closed the door, not waiting for Ocelot to actually invite him in. He sniffled.

Ocelot sighed. _Oh well._ "What happened?"

"E-Eli, he--“ Bogomol choked out before shaking his head and swaying dangerously on his weak, skinny legs.

"Sit down, you're going to pass out at this rate. When you’re done crying and have calmed down I will walk you back to—“

"No! I don't wanna be alone, I can’t—-“ Bogomol sobbed and stumbled towards the bed, arms stretched out, reaching for Ocelot. "Please..."

Ocelot caught him before he fell. “You’ll be fine once you’ve calmed down. Now stop fussing.”

The door slammed shut. Ocelot glanced at it.

“Don’t leave me alone again,” Bogomol mumbled, rubbing his lenses.

That was a low blow. Fine, if this was part of the stress of having been kidnapped - then this was part of the mess that Ocelot had to clean up. (And walking him back to the medical platform at this time of night may well not be a good look.) “Fine, lie down.”

“?”

“You can sleep here tonight,” Ocelot said, scooting over, “provided you tell no one and leave in the morning without anyone noticing.”

“Are you… are you going to…?”

“I’m working,” Ocelot said flatly, tapping his pen against his paperwork. “If I had a desk in here I’d be sitting there instead. But you’re small enough to curl up on _that side_ of the bed and leave me alone.”

“…okay…”

He deigned to soften his tone a bit. “Go back to sleep, Bogomolechik.”

Bogomol stared up at him with sleepy, watery eyes, which looked sick filtered through the yellow lens. “Aren’t you gonna ask what I’m doing here in the first place?”

“You obviously had some sort of nightmare about Eli.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know…”

“That’s fine, I don’t particularly want to hear about it. A nightmare is just a dream, Bogomol, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“But—“

“Haven’t we had this conversation before? There’s no proof your psychic connection with him works over this kind of distance,” Ocelot explained with exaggerated patience, “you’re worried about him, so your subconscious invents all kinds of nasty scenarios he might be going through. That’s normal. That doesn’t mean it’s reality.”

“Nn… okay.”

That being said, considering the reputation of POW camps in that part of the world and the fact that Eli had been missing for nearly a full year now - chances were good that whatever Bogomol’s subconscious was inventing, no matter how terrible, actually _was_ what was happening — the more terrible, the more likely, in fact. Ocelot didn’t point that out, though. That wasn’t to say he never would burst Bogomol’s bubble like that, but now was not the time to do it.

“You’re sure it’s okay? …to sleep here, I mean?”

“Yes, as long as you don’t bother me. Go to _sleep_ , Bogomolechik.”

Almost reluctantly, Bogomol curled up on the bed next to Ocelot. He watched Ocelot dolefully for a while; Ocelot deliberately ignored him, and the next time he bothered to glance over at him again, Bogomol was fast asleep with his mask pressed against the sheets.

Ocelot let himself relax a bit. Letting Bogomol stay the night wasn’t the brightest idea but no harm, no foul if the little brat was asleep instead of pitifully demanding attention. In the meantime, he went back to his work. He really hated doing paperwork but couldn’t complain - after all, didn’t the adage go, ‘If you want something done right, do it yourself’? Somebody else handling Ocelot’s reports might start whining about suspicious points and expenses unaccounted for.

“Nmmn… Eli, n—-…”

 _Really?_ He was going to talk in his sleep, now of all times?

“N-No…”

Talk in his sleep and squirm around enough that he attached himself to Ocelot’s arm like a leech, hands gripping until - Ocelot was sure - blisters burst under his bandages. Ocelot sighed. True, Bogomol came in here in the first place because of a nightmare — and obviously couldn’t be expected to have the decency to not have another one and get all whiny in his sleep - the bothersome part was the fact that he was literally subconsciously drawing towards _Ocelot of all people_ for comfort.

 _It’s just because you’re a warm body and the only thing nearby_ , Ocelot blatantly lied to himself.

“E…Eli!”

Bogomol panicked himself awake. "Go back to sleep." Ocelot said gently but warningly, not wanting to bother with the boy's antics any further as he turned back to the documents sprawled across his lap.

Bogomol blinked at him in tired confusion and dread, a slightly uneven blush spreading around his eyes in ugly blotches, barely visible through the lenses of his mask.

He was clearly ashamed, mortified even, still not daring to let go of Ocelot though.

"Ocelot, I-- Eli..." Bogomol made a distressed noise at the back of his throat and pressed his masked face against Ocelot's shoulder, uncomfortably drawing up his legs.

Huh, if Ocelot didn't know better he would say the boy was aroused instead of coming down from an anxiety attack with the way he was acting.

Unless, of course, it was _both_.

For a moment he contemplated on how to proceed with the situation, until Bogomol made that decision for him, squirming against his side and panting quietly, thighs rubbing together and nudging Ocelot with his knees.

"Bogomolechik," Ocelot said at length.

“I— I’m not… I’m sorry,” Bogomol stumbled over himself, hiding his face. “I can’t… I’m terrible.”

For a moment Ocelot wanted to console him, tell him that it was perfectly normal and natural to get aroused in response to sexual imagery, even if that sexual imagery was a dream, even if it was in all likelihood imagery of his best friend getting raped. It’d be a shallow comfort at best. Ocelot opted to not give it.

“Well, what do you want?” he said instead.

“Nothing! I mean I don’t—“ Bogomol blubbered pathetically, “I w-want it to go away.”

“‘It’?”

“My… my…” He choked.

“What’s the matter?” Ocelot said, having fun now.

“S-Stop that! This isn’t funny!!”

“What do you expect _me_ to do? Just take care of it yourself… like adults do.”

“What do you mean…”

“I really have to spell it out for you? You’re telling me you don’t know what masturbation is?”

Bogomol looked absolutely horrified at the idea of Ocelot implying he was doing what every boy his age did. His eyes darted around the room. “Do- do you have a bathroom here, or…”

“Attached to my quarters? No. It’s outside and around the corner.”

“I-I’m not going out like this!” Bogomol cried, hands covering his crotch frantically.

“Then do it here,” Ocelot said impatiently, “just be quiet about it. I told you not to bother me.”

Bogomol gaped at him. “Are you serious…?”

“I’m not going to put up with you whining all night, so yes. Your other option is that I cut it off and cauterize it myself.”

Somehow it was possible for Bogomol to blush even harder. He looked away from Ocelot — and guiltily reached under the hem of his nightgown…

Ocelot turned back to his work.

“You’re— you’re just gonna ignore me?” Bogomol panted after a few long minutes.

“Absolutely,” Ocelot replied. “Why do you think I told you to keep your voice down?”

“Ah… nhh.”

Bogomol rolled onto his side, facing away from Ocelot, and kept going as if possessed. After a while he started whimpering.

“Shut up,” Ocelot said.

“It— hurts.”

“It’ll hurt even more if you don’t take care of it.”

“Not-— I meant my _hands_ ,” Bogomol whined, sitting up and showing Ocelot his bandage-covered hands. “My arms and hands are burned all over, it hurts just to- to touch things."

“Ah, I see.” Ocelot finally deigned to look at him. “Don’t use your hands, then.”

“Bu- wha—“

“Your _pillow_ , you idiot. You’ve been hiding behind it anyway, might as well put it to good use.”

Mortified, Bogomol pressed the pillow - Ocelot’s pillow - closer to his crotch. Ocelot looked away again. Bogomol panted. It was surreally calm in here for such a deathly awkward situation.

“I, I can’t,” Bogomol eventually sputtered out, “I can’t, I can’t- please—“

“Please _what?_ Now what do you want?”

“Ocelot, I c- _can’t_ —-“ Desperately he reached out and grabbed Ocelot’s hand.

Ocelot almost jerked it away. Almost.

It wasn’t exactly staying hands-off (quite literally), but it was leagues better than putting his dick in him again, Ocelot reasoned. Bogomol squirmed and bucked against his hand. The kid was instantly overwhelmed. Ocelot didn’t think about how hard and hot and wet it felt against his palm.

“Keep your voice down,” he said again, “stop moaning like you’re some kind of whore.”

“O-Oce—“

“Shut up.”

Ocelot kept his eyes fixed on his paperwork, though he wasn’t really reading it or doing anything with it. Aside from the movement of his hand, this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Ocelot regretted sleeping with Bogomol because Bogomol wasn’t supposed to get attached to him over it but he _did_ and now he was in _his bed_.

Maybe not the worst he’d ever fucked up, but god damn it was up there.

“I said _shut up_.”

“I-I-I’m going t-to—“

“Are you? If we ever see Eli again, then, I’ll be sure to tell him you came to the thought of him getting _raped_.”

Bogomol sputtered. “ _Eli_ ,” he gasped frantically, popping a line of stitches as he spilled against Ocelot’s sleeve.

Of all the nasty shit Ocelot had seen in his life, for a split second, this was the most disgusting.

Calmly he got up, crossed his room to grab some tissues, and wiped off his hand and sleeve. Bogomol lay on the bed, wheezing, bleeding on the sheets, softening dick peeking out from under the hem of his stupid provocative little gown. He shouldn’t have been allowed to walk from the medical platform to the command platform like that. (Or maybe he didn’t walk.)

(Maybe he just wanted to see Ocelot that much.)

“I love you,” Bogomol said, staring up at the ceiling.

If Ocelot had garnered any sexual satisfaction for himself from this it died down with those words being uttered. “You mean Eli,” he said emotionlessly.

“No, you. I mean… you… Otselyubyek.”

“Call me that again and I’ll kill you.”

“I love you,” Bogomol repeated earnestly.

Ocelot was pretty sure his dick retracted into his body at that. “No you don’t,” he said, flatly.

“Yes I d-“

“No, you _don’t_. We’ve just been selfishly using each other and you mistake that for love because you’re seventeen years old and don’t know any better.”

“But—“

“Get out. There’s nothing between us but mistakes and false pretenses. Go back to the medical platform and don’t tell them how you burst your stitches. This never happened. Do you understand that? Nothing happened. Even if it did, it didn’t mean anything.”

Bogomol stared at Ocelot for a long while, then turned over and demonstratively fell asleep on the very pillow he’d unsuccessfully humped.

Ocelot sighed through his nose. He felt he wasn’t getting through to the boy.


	9. Chapter 9

True to form Bogomol was still in Ocelot’s bed by the morning. Ocelot just had to pretend the kid hadn’t come in until after he’d already left for the morning. When Bogomol didn’t return the medical platform on his own by mid-morning, Ocelot, irritated, had to go back and “discover” him.

“I told you to leave in the morning, didn’t I?” Ocelot said.

“I just woke up,” Bogomol mumbled, dragging Ocelot’s blanket up over his head. Ocelot yanked it off.

He threw it back over him without another word as he was reminded that Bogomol was only wearing the medical platform’s skimpy hospital gown.

“Don’t you have exams scheduled for this morning, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter. I hate exams.”

“ _That_ doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t like people touching me,” Bogomol said into the pillow, “but it’s alright if it’s you.”

Ocelot told himself it would be counter-productive to strangle Bogomol to death after all the time and effort he’d put into preserving his life for this long.

“Do you need a bribe? Is that it? I’ll let you come back and sleep in my bed again if you go to medical platform like a good boy and don’t tell anyone you were here.”

Bogomol peeked up from under the blanket, squinting at Ocelot through the lenses of his gas mask.

“Okay,” he said after a long while.

Not bothering to stay and watch Bogomol's walk of shame Ocelot turned to actually taking care of important business, there were countless documents to go through still. After last night's rude interruption he was lagging behind on his own personal schedule — he still would have to contact EVA later and hopefully avoid any noisy questions about Bogomol's wellbeing.

Back in his office and sat at his desk Ocelot busied himself with his work, fully expecting a concerned call from Medical any moment, inquiring about why Bogomol had been gone the entire night only to reappear out of thin air suddenly, scaring the currently present staff half to death, complete with suspicious stains on his hospital gown.

That call never came, though.

Ocelot told himself that this was a good thing - no complaints about the little brat meant less trouble and messes for him to clean up.

But somehow, not hearing about any consequences for Bogomol's absence at all was more concerning than being scolded by Ghost Gull or having Quiet attempting to spontaneously assassinate him. Perhaps it would be the equivalent of walking into a trap, but Ocelot decided to go visit the medical platform to make sure Bogomol really had done as promised this morning.

Bogomol’s face - still with gauze taped to it around his mouth - lit up when Ocelot walked into his room.

“You came to visit,” he said warmly.

“No I didn’t.”

“What are you doing here, then?”

“Checking up on you.”

“…so, a visit.”

“You look terrible,” Ocelot said instead of arguing.

Bogomol frowned.

Ocelot ignored him. The important thing now was to find some pretense for being here - that had nothing to do with Bogomol. Easier said than done when he’d already walked into the boy’s room.

So he left. He heard Bogomol huff angrily behind him before he closed the door again but frankly, if Bogomol was annoyed at Ocelot that was probably for the better.

“You were eavesdropping on us again, weren’t you?” he said to thin air.

Quiet waited just long enough that someone other than Ocelot would have begun to doubt himself before she materialized. Even before she finished putting her skin back on her meat she was giving Ocelot a suspicious look.

“He wasn’t in his room last night,” Quiet signed at him.

“Of course you checked,” Ocelot muttered. “Why am I supposed to know where he was?”

“You know why.”

"I'm not his mother."

"Thank goodness."

"He always liked to wander around. And you should know what being confined to one room for a long time does to a person's mind,” Ocelot twisted his moustache around his finger. "Don't be so hard on him."

Quiet scoffed. "It's not his fault. I don't care what kind of depraved crap you get up to in your free time." She seemed clearly bothered, quite uncharacteristically so. "But I am not letting you harm the children the boss is responsible for."

He couldn't help but laugh at that. "Very noble of you. But Bogomol is barely a child anymore. He can take care of himself."

Quiet raised an eyebrow and pointed at the door to Bogomol's room.

"That's different. I'm simply cleaning up my own mess here - aside from that he is responsible for his own decisions."

Quiet didn't believe a word and it showed on her face, but Ocelot didn't bother to argue with her any further. He had rested his case as far as he was concerned and if Quiet took the bait or not wasn't going to impact the situation further. She didn't have any proof or base for her accusations.

...

Oh god, he was trying to justify the situation to himself now, wasn't he?

Ocelot turned around and left before he could get himself into any more trouble. He could practically feel Quiet glaring at his back.

* * *

“…so you called me specifically to tell me you had no new information.”

“You _told_ me to keep you updated. So I told you: The last batch of potential informers was worthless. Anyway, I have to go,” Ocelot said quickly as his office door opened.

“Ocelot?” Bogomol said in the doorway.

“Is that Bogomol I hear?” EVA demanded just before Ocelot hung up. She immediately called back. Ocelot did not answer.

“What do you want now,” Ocelot said flatly at Bogomol, shutting his phone in his desk drawer.

“You said I could sleep in your bed again tonight,” Bogomol said.

“Yes, I did.”

“…well?”

“Well _what?_ ”

“You’re still here in your office…”

Ocelot scoffed. “I said you could sleep in my bed - not that I would be there, too.”

"Is this about what I said last night?" Bogomol mumbled and quietly closed the door behind him. "It's the truth, you know."

"There is no conversation to be had about that. It never happened." Ocelot pointed at his desk that was covered in documents and paperwork. "It might come as a shock but my decisions don't actually revolve around you — in fact I have important work to do, I can't afford to slack off in my private quarters every night."

Bogomol stepped closer to inspect the papers, not bothering about breaching classified contents.

"Sleeping isn't slacking off,” he noted.

"It's sweet that you seem so concerned with my health but you should worry about your own condition first,” Ocelot said, not masking his sarcasm as he raised an eyebrow. "Besides, we both know that if I went to rest in my quarters you wouldn't let me sleep anyway. You need to learn how to take care of yourself and be alone for more than a few hours at a time."

Bogomol made a sad noise of acknowledgement but otherwise ignored him. Changing tactics most likely.

"Let me help you with your... work, then."

Ocelot blinked and threw a particularly complicated form at Bogomol. He didn’t have time for this. Bogomol gave him a sour look but sat down opposite him - on an invisible chair of course - and made a big show of going through the paperwork.

Several long minutes passed before Bogomol put it back down and sighed, “I don’t understand this.”

“Figures,” Ocelot said. “Just do your best.”

“What if I do it wrong? You’d just have to fix it.”

“If you do it wrong then I’ll scold you.”

Bogomol looked Ocelot directly in the eyes, balled up the form, and tossed to the other side of the room.

For a wild moment Ocelot didn’t react. Then he said, overly-calm, “go pick it up, Bogomolechik.”

“You need a break anyway.”

“I didn’t ask you. Go pick it up.”

Bogomol quailed under Ocelot’s intense stare and got up; when he bent over to retrieve the paper, it was with no form of modesty or respect to his hospital gown. Considering he had _psychic powers_ , Ocelot didn’t believe he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“If you’re going to be walking around Base,” Ocelot said, “you should put on some proper clothes.”

Bogomol stood up, smoothed the front of his hospital gown. “It’s for easy access this way,” he said.

“Medical access?”

Bogomol gave him a wry look.

“You really think anybody wants to see your skinny ass?” Ocelot said, annoyed.

“I should put it somewhere where you don’t have to look at it, then,” Bogomol snapped, then walked over behind the desk and sat himself down Ocelot’s lap with no care as to whether he was wanted or not. Ocelot’s immediately reaction was to jerk back and unbalance him; that just made Bogomol wind his arms around his neck.

“Get off me,” Ocelot said stiffly.

"What? I thought it was good enough to stick your dick into and use it like—“

Before he could finish Ocelot grabbed Bogomol by the muzzle of his mask warningly to force him into eye contact.

Getting the kid all riled up and upset would probably help dismantling that silly, unrealistic infatuation he had developed. Granted, the tension would not exactly help to keep Bogomol out of Ocelot's business - but he much rather preferred to play into innuendos through provoking Bogomol's anger than any more of... whatever that had been the night before.

"I am the only reason you are able to enjoy the benefits of our medical facilities here on base, so watch your mouth." He watched Bogomol's eyelid twitch in irritation. "I am not above sending you back to a civilian hospital if you don't behave yourself."

Bogomol laughed at that, breath rasping through his mask as he pulled out of Ocelot's grasp.

"Don't even try — I know you do like having me around, Otselyubyek."

With that, Ocelot threw him to the floor.

“Stop that,” he said.

Bogomol picked himself up and perched himself right back on Ocelot’s knee. “ _You_ stop that,” he said. “I’m trying to help.”

“Some help you are.”

For a few seconds Bogomol shifted around in his lap, only to then look up at Ocelot with a triumphant glint in his eyes.

His hand snaked down between his spread legs to confirm his suspicion, only to retreat in clear disappointment. "Why— is that a _gun?!_ "

Ocelot gave Bogomol an incredulous look. "Honestly, what else did you expect?"

“What do you _think_ , old man?” Bogomol pouted.

“I think you’re not as… _enticing_ as you seem to think you are.”

“I’ll let you choke me again.”

“Excuse me?”

Bogomol tossed his head. “I know what kind of depraved things you’re into, Ocelot, so if that’s what it takes for you to get it up—“

“Why are you so insistent on- you really think that’s _all_ it takes?”

“Isn’t it?”

For all his smugness and provocation, Bogomol really was heartbreakingly naïve. And that, unfortunately, was what did it for Ocelot.

He grit his teeth. “You're really desperate enough to come on to someone who is clearly not interested in you? Don't mistake pity for affection."

Bogomol, seeming only slightly deterred, grabbed Ocelot's wrists and led his hands to his own neck. "You don't feel pity."

Instead of whatever he was expecting though, he only got a light smack against his mask in response. Ocelot glared at him.

"You really think anyone would want to shove their dick into a face like yours? And look at that," He pointed at Bogomol's bandaged hands. “That's going to leave some ugly scars - you'll only disgust people with that, not turn them on."

"That's not true!!" Bogomol's voice was faltering and he was clearly hurt by Ocelot's words. "Eli never—“

"Eli is busy being raped and tortured, I doubt he has time to harbor any affectionate thoughts for you."

Finally Bogomol pulled away a little, apparently somehow still shocked that Ocelot would say such things to him. Wouldn't he ever learn?

"Fine..." he mumbled quietly after a few moments. "If you don't want me then at least _pity_ me."

Ocelot licked his lips, contemplating for a moment, watching Bogomol's little show, that heartbroken expression and submissive posture. If he played along with the charade he could get the kid off his back without risking too much. He could make it quick even, and if he kept his own dick tucked away there was little room to turn it back on him. By anyone.

Bogomol made a small noise, unable to hide his surprise, when Ocelot's gloved hand creeped under the hem of his gown.

“Don’t act all shy now, I’m just giving you exactly what you wanted.”

“What are you…”

“Teaching you a lesson.”

Bogomol yelped as Ocelot forced a finger in him - no lube, no warning. Even had the audacity to try to pull away now - it must have hurt more than being choked — Ocelot seized him by the throat with his other hand and bent him back over the desk, pinning him down against those important forms.

“You need to learn how to behave.”

Bogomol just choked, knees knocking together, back arching as Ocelot quickly and merciless located his prostate. Ocelot gave him just enough leeway to pull in a noisy breath when the tears started welling in his eyes. Ocelot watched them closely through his lenses.

“Oce—-“

He squeezed again.

Despite the struggling and crying, Bogomol’s little dick was tenting the front of his gown. “Of course,” Ocelot said. He really had no intention to draw this out and bothering with Bogomol's pitiful erection would only get his hands more dirty than it was necessary, anyway. "Look at you crying when there is only a single finger inside of you." Going by that Ocelot hooked his finger in and _pulled_. "You're so greedy for a real cock yet you already break at the slightest discomfort."

Bogomol let out a high whine and Ocelot genuinely hoped that nobody was walking by his office right now, because, of course, it was just his luck that he would end up with a screamer.

He squeezed Bogomol's throat warningly and then let go, carefully listening to those satisfyingly desperate gasps for air. "How about you tell me a few things instead of howling like a dog in heat?"

Bogomol's eyes widened, trying to focus, and he squirmed around Ocelot's finger.

"W-What do you mean?"

"Explain to me; why am I doing this, hm?" Ocelot brushed Bogomol's hole with another finger. "If you're correct perhaps I could reward you."

Bogomol gulped. “I- I—“

“Well?”

“B-Because you love me too…”

“ _Wrong_ ,” Ocelot said, eyelid twitching. He pulled his finger out so harshly he could hear Bogomol’s teeth clack together.

“But—“

“We’ve been over this. I don’t love you. _You_ don’t love _me_. You just want attention.”

“That- but— yes,” Bogomol gasped out at length, skinny bandaged fingers curling tight around Ocelot’s wrist. “I want… attention.”

“There’s a good start,” Ocelot said, slipping his finger back in. “Go on.”

“I w-want attention and I wouldn’t stop- stop— bothering you, for it.”

“And why was that wrong?”

“Because you don’t like me,” Bogomol said, his lenses fogging up with tears.

“Exactly,” Ocelot said, and Bogomol howled as he worked in a second finger. “I don’t like you at all.”

Bogomol was silent for a moment — then sputtered, “Why?”

“…why?”

“Why don’t you like me… what did I do…?”

Ocelot had to stop moving. For a moment he was confused - _did_ he dislike Bogomol? or was he just trying to convince Bogomol he did so he’d keep his distance? It seemed, somehow, like an important distinction. Like it’d be some great injustice if Ocelot truly did- well— _tolerate_ the boy — but convinced himself he hated him, because that was just his MO, wasn’t it - convincing himself of whatever lie he had to tell, so that it would never be a lie. To him, it was the truth.

What _was_ the truth? Ocelot wasn’t even in a position to tell it to himself.

He hooked his fingers. “You didn’t do anything,” he murmured over Bogomol’s cries. “That’s the problem. You’re just an annoying brat who can’t take care of himself. You always need someone to chase you down - because on your own, you’re worthless.”

“Oce-—“

“You just can’t leave me alone. There’s nothing between us, Bogomolechik. Get it through your head.”

Bogomol let out a choked sound, his legs twitching for a second as Ocelot watched a wet spot form through the fabric of his gown.

"You're pathetic. I didn't even have to touch you."

He bit his tongue to stop himself from breathing too heavily as he pulled his fingers from Bogomol and took a step back to take in his work.

Bogomol was panting, clutching his gown desperately and only dared to glance up at Ocelot after a full minute or so.

"Get out,” Ocelot growled.

" _No_..."

“No?”

“I can’t…” He turned his head away. “I can’t. I love you.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Ocelot said, grabbing the collar of the gown and yanking Bogomol forward, off the desk. “Why don’t you understand? Stay away from me.”

“You’re bad for me?” Bogomol sniffled.

“The worst.”

“I don’t care.” He took one step forward on shaking legs and collapsed into Ocelot’s lap again. “I don’t…”

This wasn’t working. The more Ocelot resisted, the more Bogomol closed in on him.

He sighed and patted Bogomol’s shoulder, gentle now. “This was the last time,” he told him sternly, “from now on, we’re nothing more than superior and subordinate. Do you understand, Bogomolechik?”

Bogomol cried silently against his chest.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”


	10. Chapter 10

Bogomol was released from the medical platform - not that he was going to give up his Faraday cage room, but still — Ocelot, almost spitefully, enrolled him in school and suspended him from the intel team. A few weeks later, just before Ocelot went off-base again, he quietly reinstated him.

Things were once again settling into a rhythm around Mother Base. To be allowed to actually work for the intel team however, Bogomol had to participate in a few classes that were seen as mandatory and necessary still.

Economics, Language, History and Politics were all part of his curriculum and Bogomol loathed every single one of them. There was another 'physical training and maintenance' class that he had never bothered to show up to - partly because he refused to exercise with a group of smelly teenagers but also because skipping classes would maybe catch Ocelot's attention and cause him to punish Bogomol.

He flexed his hands under his desk at the thought of that and continued staring at the blank paper on his desk.

Being part of Outer Heaven's Youth Education Program probably had its benefits for most of the adolescents on base; since there was only a handful of kids the classes were small and their teacher able to work closely with each of them.

For Bogomol this was everything but a benefit though - the teacher noticing and even commenting on his utter lack of motivation and poor performance, shaking her head when he refused to read out loud or solve arithmetical problems in front of the class.

Especially Economics he hated with a burning passion, even as a child he had never understood mathematics when Eli had attempted to teach him some useful knowledge. Bogomol had already struggled picking up on the English language and alphabet, reading had not come easily for him.

But math was even worse; Eli had eventually given up all together, much to Bogomol's simultaneous relief and disappointment. In his childish naïveté he had wanted to impress Eli and thought that being able to handle numbers was enough to do so, especially because his friend seemed to work through every mathematical issue with such ease.

Now however, Bogomol couldn't care less for this class and leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply.

"This is too hard..." he whispered to Wolf who was seated next to him.

"You are very stupid,” she stated matter of factly before turning back to their calculating task.

“I don’t see how this is essential, I’m not going to need math on the intel team. You’re not going to need math as a sniper.”

“Snipers do use math, we have to calculate angles and such.”

“And do you pull out a piece of paper and do calculations on them?”

“Shut up.”

After a few more minutes, Wolf leaned over to him again and whispered: “Are you really just thinking about how you do not need math if you’re Ocelot’s pet?”

“…” Bogomol wasn’t sure how to answer, especially considering anything he said would likely get passed on to Quiet. “You shut up,” he said.

“Ashamed?”

“Why would I be?”

“Because Ocelot does not actually like you,” Wolf said matter-of-factly.

“Wolf! Mantis!” the teacher said sternly before Bogomol could respond, “you can talk after class. Not now!”

Wolf dutifully went back to her work. Bogomol did not. She was right. He _was_ thinking about how he didn’t need math if he was Ocelot’s pet.

But _was_ he? — that was the real question. Ocelot had been holding him at arms’ length ever since that last… incident. Furthermore, Ocelot had been spending more and more time off-Base. He said he was looking for Eli and Bogomol knew he should be grateful for that, but he still found himself feeling dejected and abandoned. Maybe a little jealous. Of course he wanted Eli to be rescued but he was starting to include “Ocelot will have time for _me_ again” in the list of benefits of that.

Bogomol leaned back in his chair and started chewing on his pen. This was a fruitless effort - nobody had ever taught him anything about math beyond simple arithmetic and even those he couldn't do on paper nor in his head beyond small numbers.

He had only briefly attended an actual school as a child and the University and Skull Face had never treated him as anything more than an asset, so education was out of the picture.

It was Eli who had taught him how to speak and write in English, and he had been a surprisingly good teacher, despite getting impatient and frustrated quickly - Bogomol always made progress and understood what was expected of him. A brief smile on Eli's face after a minor success left him craving for more positive attention, no matter how small it may have been - it was motivation enough.

Unlike now, he thought bitterly while scribbling tiny flowers and geometric shapes on his assignment sheet. Even Ocelot's Russian lessons hadn't been this boring, despite struggling with writing in Cyrillic Bogomol had somehow managed - though he never got a full grasp on the written language.

"Five minutes left,” the teacher announced, pulling Bogomol out of his memories and back to his table.

Clicking his tongue he peeked into Wolf's head to copy her answers swiftly, making sure to drop a mistake or two here and there to keep his performance authentic.

Being here was so frustrating.

Bogomol missed Ocelot. And even more than that, he missed Eli.

* * *

At exactly midnight, Seychelles time, on what according to his intake records was his eighteenth birthday, Bogomol told Ocelot that he wanted to go public with their relationship.

Ocelot told him to get the fuck out of his quarters.

“I’m legal now, aren’t I?” Bogomol said. “Eighteen is considered the age of majority in Outer Heaven.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” Ocelot said flatly.

Bogomol straddled his lap, took off his mask, started unbuttoning his shirt. “We don’t have to pretend anymore, Otselyubyek…”

“Next time I hear that stupid nickname come out of your mouth I’m cutting off your tongue.”

"You'll want me to keep my tongue, trust me." Bogomol's breath was hot against Ocelot's ear - the boy already had worked himself up before coming here it seemed.

"You are delusional." Ocelot said as Bogomol nipped at his neck. "Do you really think there is more to me tolerating this than convenience and pity?"

When the childish nibbling ceased only to be replaced by Bogomol raking his fingers through Ocelot's hair he did the only reasonable thing he could think of.

He pushed Bogomol off his lap and between his legs."This position seems to be more fitting for you, don‘t you agree?“

Nodding and flashing Ocelot the sweetest little smile Bogomol pressed his cheek against his thigh, shaking hands grasping clumsily at the crotch of Ocelot‘s pants.

“Please,” he rasped and licked his lips. “Please be nice to me...”

For a moment Ocelot just stared down at that endearingly pathetic face followed by the sharp sound of his palm hitting the scarred skin of Bogomol’s face echoing through the room.

“You really think you’ll just get what you want by acting a little cute?” He grabbed Bogomol by the jaw and forced him to look up. “I suppose I didn’t teach you well enough–“

Bogomol whined. “U-Use me, then...”

Raising an eyebrow, Ocelot let out a hollow laugh.

“I suppose you deserve a little birthday present – not like anyone else cares enough to think of you.”

At this point, what was there to lose anyway?

Visibly excited, Bogomol managed to unbutton Ocelot’s pants, a flicker of careful disappointment on his face as he drew out the old man’s limp cock.

Ocelot scoffed. “What did you expect? You’re not exactly giving me much to work with here.”

“I’m trying,” Bogomol mumbled, inexperienced hands closing around Ocelot. “I-I’ve just never done this before...”

“Not even with Eli?”

Bogomol flinched at the mention of his friend, most likely coming to realise the extent of the situation he had put himself in. Ocelot could see the discomfort in his movements – maybe he was ashamed, or perhaps feeling guilty.

His mouth was hot and his lips dry and chapped, not really the type of sensation Ocelot would put on par with ‘pleasant’ but what he was lacking in technique and anatomy Bogomol made up with his insecure enthusiasm. Getting more experimental he tried to take in more, the scrape of teeth quite noticeable as Bogomol got overwhelmed and let out a choked sound, gasping for air.

“…sorry.” Bogomol wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearly trying not to sound demotivated.

“That’s it?” Ocelot scoffed, closely watching Bogomol’s reaction. “If I wanted someone to drool on my dick I could’ve just gotten a lapdog.”

Bogomol looked up at him, stunned.

“…I didn’t tell you to stop, Bogomolechik.”

“Huh?” he said stupidly.

“How are you ever going to learn to do it right if you give up so soon?” Ocelot pushed his head back down. “Get back to it.”

Flustered, Bogomol obeyed. Ocelot sort of regretted taking Bogomol’s stitches out, at least that would have provided a novel sensation. Ocelot contemplated dragging Bogomol down to the hilt by fistfuls of his pretty hair; he let him struggle along for another few minutes before proceeding to do so.

“Gkkkhkh-!!”

He felt Bogomol retch around him and let him pull back. Bogomol continued to dry heave for a while before finally catching his breath, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“You can’t even do that much?” Ocelot chided.

“Tha- that hurt…!”

“All you have to do is _sit_ there.”

“It hurts!”

Ocelot snorted. “Just figure out a way to finish what you started, will you?”

Bogomol gave him a mutinous look, but he still nodded, complied.

In the beginning Ocelot had to do most of the work, guiding Bogomol’s head down deep enough until the boy finally understood where he was supposed to put his mouth, eyes shut tightly in concentration and scarred nostrils flaring strenuously to gather enough oxygen to not faint.

If he was really being honest with himself this wasn't particularly satisfying or pleasurable, but in the end it did the job and Ocelot managed to push Bogomol’s tear- and snot-stained face off him to finish off on his own. Bogomol didn’t seem particularly surprised at that, even lazily opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue performatively, which irked Ocelot to no end.

He had hoped to take Bogomol down a notch with the whole ordeal, yet now Ocelot had to lean back, his chest rising steadily as his body calmed down from his climax – unfortunately that gave the boy the opportunity to lick and wipe his face clean, clearly grimacing at the taste of semen, before smiling at Ocelot with his crooked teeth and climbing back into his lap.

“Did I do good?” Bogomol’s voice was painfully hoarse, which honestly would have excited Ocelot’s dick a little if he wasn’t already spent.

“No.” It wasn’t a lie.

Yet, Bogomol frowned, clearly dissatisfied.

“Then show me how to do it well.”

Ocelot gave him a very unamused look.

…

It took minutes, only a few literal _minutes_ , for Bogomol to end up back in Ocelot’s bed, mind completely blown. Ocelot wiped his mouth with a vaguely irritated air. “Pathetic,” he said.

Bogomol made an incoherent mumble, covering his face sleepily.

Ocelot had effectively sucked his brains out through his dick. There was no point in trying to needle him. Instead Ocelot just tossed a blanket over his skinny frame and left him to sleep. Alone.

* * *

So in the end he hadn’t done a very good job of convincing Bogomol to stay away. Ocelot could only sort of rationalize it to himself by admitting that he hadn’t really tried all that hard. Instead of telling Bogomol to stop bothering him, he should have been telling _himself_ to stop having sex with Bogomol.

Ah, but, that didn’t happen. They always wound up in bed together - or more specifically, Bogomol always wound up under or across Ocelot’s desk. At least they hadn’t _fucked_ fucked ever since that ill-advised night back in Moscow. It was a hollow comfort.

Quiet didn’t let up, even as Bogomol inched towards nineteen.

"So, tell me Ocelot - how is Psycho Mantis doing?"

Ocelot glared at Venom. "Why did you call for _me?_ You could just ask him yourself."

Either Venom didn't notice the disdain in his voice or he pretended not to, slowly taking a drag from his phantom cigar as he tapped his fingers on his desk.

”Well, it has come to my attention that you and Psycho Mantis are... close. Now, don't look at me like that. I know you two have history - I'm not going to form an opinion until I've heard all sides of the story."

"Quiet should better take care of her own business, if you ask me, Boss."

Venom shrugged. "This isn't about Quiet, Ocelot. And even if it were, I was under the impression the two of you got along just fine."

"It's not—"

"Well?"

Sighing, Ocelot relented. "Bogomol has taken to me, I suppose it's because I am the only attachment figure in his life - now that Eli is... well."

Venom blinked. "Bogomol?" Shit. "I don't think it's considered appropriate to be called a nickname by your superiors..."

"Not to be rude, Boss, but I don't think either of us are in the right position to preach conventional relationships between ranks here."

"Hm. You're not wrong."

"I can assure you whatever rumours you might have heard are completely exaggerated." Ocelot ground his teeth. "Bogomol needs someone familiar to take care of him, otherwise he'll be a liability more than anything. He is very... impressionable."

"I see... you really care for the boy, don't you Ocelot?"

Venom couldn't possibly be trying to trap him, could he?

Jesus, he was becoming paranoid.

“What makes you think that?” Ocelot said with a completely straight face.

Venom just gave him his typical blank, hollow expression in return. “You’ve been calling him by a nickname and you just said he’s taken to you, didn’t you?”

“…boss, ‘bogomol’ just means ‘mantis’ in Russian.”

“We’re talking in English.”

Fair point. “This isn’t something I asked for.”

“What’s the matter? If anything, it’s good to have something around to soften you up a bit… now that DD’s getting old.”

“Soften me up a bit?” Ocelot said incredulously.

“Like I said - you really seem to care for the boy.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“Of course. Just… try not to give people the wrong impression. Given the circumstances, I’m glad he has you. I’d rather you keep things appropriate, though.”

“No need to worry about that, Boss.”

Venom nodded, eyes closed. It had been close to nine years since his brainwashing wore off, and it was still exceptionally easy for Ocelot to convince him of anything.

Which meant it was exceptionally worrying that Venom thought that Ocelot cared about Bogomol. It meant that what had convinced Venom here was Ocelot’s _actions_ and _attitudes_ \- not his words. And those must have been pretty damn convincing for Venom to say he was _glad Bogomol had Ocelot_ when Ocelot had just said he didn’t want him.

Ocelot thought back over his public interactions with Bogomol and had to admit that Venom was coming from somewhere. ‘Ocelot’s pet’ indeed - the whole base must have known about it. Ocelot was just being willfully ignorant.

He didn’t want to admit he cared about him. Rather, he _didn’t_. But if people _thought_ he did, that was bad enough. If someone with an axe to grind with Ocelot _thought_ he cared about Bogomol, then it would be all to easy to get at him in an attempt to hurt—

Oh _fuck_. The fact that he was worried about that _necessarily_ meant that he _did_ care about Bogomol’s wellbeing.

Standing outside Venom’s office, Ocelot put his face in his hands. These feelings had snuck up on him unexpectedly for no reason other than he had been too stubborn to acknowledge the warning signs. Now it was too late - he’d developed a bonafide weak point.

He mulled over what to do as he walked away - returning to his quarters almost subconsciously, looking for a place to brood and consider his options. Keeping Bogomol around now seemed suddenly like a liability. Some distance may help. He could have him transferred to an FOB on the ass-end of the world, and after some time apart they would no longer care about each other and…

Of course Bogomol was sleeping in Ocelot’s bed without his permission, all tucked in like he belonged there…

Despite the boy wearing a mask Ocelot knew exactly what his facial expression looked like; peaceful, tranquil and the slightest hint of a smug smile tugging at the scarred corners of Bogomol's mouth as his messy hair spilled over his eyes like molten lava.

Perhaps nature was right in assigning striking colours to poisonous animals, Ocelot thought as he picked one of the fiery curls to pull it behind Bogomol's ear.

He wasn't really surprised to find him here like this, conveniently covering only his most precious parts with a blanket, the still much too big Outer Heaven uniform balled up on the floor. Bogomol recently had picked up on the fact that if Ocelot was tired and exhausted after a long day (he was getting older after all, no reason denying it) he was way more receptive to a warm, young body in his bed.

Damn it, he should've never let Bogomol into his bed, it was the same with DD - he was just like a dog on that matter. If you let it into your personal space once it would never again accept no as an answer.

Now though, Ocelot didn't feel relieved or comforted at the sight of Bogomol sprawled out in his sheets - instead he catalysed the one emotion he never admitted to himself into disgust and anger.

Anger at the boy for letting himself be manipulated and falling for him, at Eli for being stupid enough to abandon Bogomol and letting himself be captured to get tortured god knows where—

And at himself. For letting this escalate further than that damned night back in Moscow, seemingly so far away and unreal at the back of his mind.

But in the end Ocelot wasn't the type of man to dwell on his suppressed emotions - if it came down to it he expelled them into gruesome cruelty before letting himself be consumed. He knew well enough that even the most professional, most coldblooded sadist could not free himself entirely from what tied him to the earth beneath his feet.

Denying oneself emotion was not the way that had led Ocelot to become the person he was - sure, he never let himself indulge, kept himself in check carefully to never fully lose control and end up on either of the extremes that tried to worm their ways into his conscious.

Someone like him, someone like the illusive Shalashaska needed balance - something many aspired but never truly reached.

He knew why, of course, it was unattainable - the blue rose of his trade. Ocelot had seen dozens of men struck down by their own rules, few ever kept the game going like he did.

Bogomol turned in his sleep as Ocelot gently caressed his neck, then reached for his revolver with the same tenderness.

He was wrapping a strip of cloth around the muzzle to silence the noise when Bogomol stirred in his sleep. Ocelot stilled.

“Eli…” Bogomol whispered, not quite awake.

“…” Slowly Ocelot put the gun down. He… couldn’t do it.

At least, not yet.


	11. Chapter 11

1994\. Early September.

“Do you think you’ll find him this time?” Mantis said, playing with Ocelot’s scarf.

“There’s no way to tell.”

"I don't want you to go."

Ocelot chuckled. "So you'd prefer for Eli to not come back."

At that Mantis went very silent and for the first time in hours Ocelot looked up at him from his work, raising a concerned eyebrow.

"...sometimes I wonder if it's supposed to have gone like this. Eli got out into the world and did what he wanted, died the death he wanted at the hands of his enemy."

"I was under the impression that you considered him alive?"

Mantis ignored him, rambling voice edging into a tone that Ocelot was all too familiar with - denial.

He never even considered that Mantis might doubt his own words.

"He always went on about how he wanted to be killed on the battlefield if the time came, he was obsessed with it." Mantis sighed and fumbled with the straps of his mask and slipped it off. His expression looked blank. "I guess he thought I'd hold him back - me always trying to keep him safe and alive that is."

"Bogomol—"

"I'll miss you," Mantis interrupted and slid off the desk, crawled into Ocelot's lap, pushing him back on his chair far far away from any documents and papers.

"Hm,” Ocelot huffed. Mantis had hit a very belated growth spurt in the past year and now finally towered over Ocelot - for some indiscernible reason the boy had always been tall for his age, despite the severe malnutrition his genes pushed him very much above average.

Still he wasn't particularly heavy, though Ocelot had grown old and tired and found himself exhausted under the weight of a grown man digging into his thighs.

"If he is alive— if you bring him back, let me see him as soon as you land on base,” Mantis mumbled against his neck.

"What if he requires medical attention? We don't know what state he is in, so I don't—"

"Promise me."

Ocelot let Mantis nip at his ear and let the boy rake his skinny fingers over his body. He hadn't let himself grow this soft for anyone in a long time - this greedy, desperate touching was just too reminiscent of a time where Bogomol was still a stinking, crying toddler back in the USSR. Far away from the Seychelles, from Ocelot.

"I'll miss you. Please come back soon..." Mantis rasped.

They made eye contact and the expectant glint in Mantis' eyes snapped Ocelot right back into his chair, pinned under the meagre weight of his favourite psychic pet.

He pushed Mantis off, sat him back onto the desk where he stayed - he was pouting, but he had grown quite accustomed to Ocelot's less than gentle ways of showing affection.

"At least let me blow you before you leave..."

Ocelot actually laughed out loud at that and took Mantis' face into his hands.

"I might have a better idea, Bogomolechik…”

Mantis grinned. It wasn’t especially attractive.

“Don’t be so smug.”

“What are you going to do, Otselyubyek?”

Ocelot smacked him for calling him that. Not hard. Mantis just laughed at it. Laughed, and grabbed at Ocelot, greedily kissing him. Ocelot didn’t waste much time with Mantis’ pants. He wasn’t much one for foreplay.

“You’re so mean,” Mantis mumbled as Ocelot pushed him away. “Don’t you like me?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s not an answer… how mean…” he started pouting again, but certainly wasn’t put off enough to resist Ocelot undressing him. He would have helped, even, if he hadn’t been stubbornly trying to get Ocelot’s clothes off too - though Ocelot wasn’t letting him.

“You’d better not make a mess on my desk,” Ocelot warned.

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?”

"Not really. It's not my fault you can't hold back and manage to come before I even start properly touching you."

Mantis crossed his arms, looking quite ridiculous with his bare ass on classified documents, dick sticking up in between them eagerly. "At least I don't take ages to get it up."

"Oh, please. Don't blame me for your poor performance." Ocelot pulled Mantis closer and spread his legs, pulling the glove off his right hand with his teeth.

"Ah—" Mantis hiccuped, overexcited when he felt Ocelot's hand snake between his thighs.

At this point he was used to being penetrated by Ocelot's fingers without lube, but in a surprising gesture of benevolence Ocelot let him suck on his fingers, carefully feeling down on his teeth and gums.

"If you bite me I'm going to rip your balls off,” Ocelot said warningly.

Undaunted, Mantis pressed down his teeth - not quite hard enough to qualify as a bite. Ocelot rolled his eyes, hooking his fingers in further. Mantis was awfully uppity for someone who had never even attempted to _not_ be a huge pathetic bottom.

Well, maybe he’d be more inclined to try to take charge if Ocelot didn’t always do things quick and dirty. Get his rocks off and go back to pretending they weren’t entangled with each other like this, all while Mantis moped and sighed and generally acted like the dramatic heroine of an angsty romance novel.

Of course, the fact that Ocelot was actually about to _put his dick in him_ again seemed significant.

Why? Wasn’t this investigation just going to end up like all the others? It seemed promising but they’d had promising ones before. No Eli still.

Mantis moaned around Ocelot’s fingers.

“You’re impatient,” Ocelot scolded and removed his fingers from Mantis' mouth, switching hands to slip them between his legs. He didn't have any lube at hand (or at least he liked to pretend there wasn't any hidden away in the back of his desk drawer) so Mantis' saliva had to make do. "I think you'd rather prefer to take this slowly."

Mantis looked up at him, slight suspicion in his eyes as he licked a few drops of spit off his chin. "Do you know something I don't...?"

"The fact that you have to ask should be answer enough, hm?"

Using his free hand to undo his pants and jerk himself to full hardness it was a delicious treat to watch slow realisation spreading across Mantis' face.

The kid blushed - how endearingly pathetic.

Ocelot didn’t give him much time to start getting all smug again before he pushed forward. Mantis yelped at the pain - Ocelot bit his lips, shutting him up. Mantis clung to his shoulders, hard.

“I think this might have been better the time we were both drinking,” Ocelot said against his mouth.

“Owww, fuck…”

"You need to relax."

Mantis glared at him before hiding away against his shoulder. "You're one to talk. Oh god—" He was groaning, quite clearly in pain.

"Need a break?" Ocelot hummed and snapped his hips forward provocatively.

For a moment Mantis looked as if he was going to relent, his silence (aside from the quiet wincing) telling enough, but Ocelot found himself surprised when Mantis' moved back against his thrusts.

"Hurry up—" he sounded like he was crying. Hell, he probably _was_. "Go harder, I can take it..."

"Can you?" Ocelot teased, and pulled Mantis closer until his ass sat flush against his crotch.

Damn it, he would be lying to himself - and he had done enough of that for at least three lifetimes - if he told himself that it didn't feel relieving, euphoric and utterly _satisfying_ tofinally bury himself into the tight and pliant warmth of Mantis' body after all this push and pull.

"Ah— Eli..." Ocelot felt Mantis wet cock twitch against his stomach.

"You're such a slut," he said simply and pulled out - Mantis whined loudly, torn between pain and neediness - but Ocelot didn't leave him hanging for long, manhandling the boy and effectively flipping him over his desk before pushing back in.

"Don't you dare come until I tell you to,” he growled against Mantis' ear.

Nodding frantically, Mantis arched his back. "Please—"

“Begging already?” Ocelot bit at his earlobe, hard enough that there would be a visible wound even into the next day. By this point, he didn’t much care about keeping this secret. Mantis was an adult… “You’ll miss me, you said?”

“Nnh... yes…”

“How much?”

“I don’t want you to go… ah—“

“What about Eli?” Ocelot whispered.

“E-Eli--“ Fat tears rolled down Mantis’ cheeks.

"Too bad he's been busy being raped and beaten into submission for the past four years. Don't you feel guilty?"

"You shouldn't say that—" Mantis cried out and clenched around him. He was clearly into this.

"It's unhealthy, y'know?" Ocelot whispered. "Your obsession with him. How pathetic can one be to base his entire identity on another man?"

Mantis grit his teeth and jerked his head back, effectively hitting Ocelot in the face with an ugly crunching sound. "Hypocrite..."

Physically it stung but Ocelot couldn't help himself and let out a hollow laugh as he gripped Mantis more tightly around the hips to drive into him even harder, faster.

"Maybe you need the same treatment as him - see how you can barely behave even now that I got you all hungry for my—"

"O-Ocelot—!"

Sneaking a hand around Mantis' front Ocelot grabbed his straining cock roughly and pressed a finger against the leaking slit. "Not yet. You're going to ruin my reports."

Mantis took the opportunity to fuck himself into Ocelot's hand, every thrust pushing him back against Ocelot's own dick in the process.

It was a lot. Ocelot hadn't done this properly in years and the boy couldn't hold out much longer either - so where was the harm in it?

"Does Eli know how you think about him? Did you ever confess your dirty little fantasies before abandoning him?"

"N-No!" Mantis said, choking, more to himself than anyone else, really.

Ocelot started jerking him off in earnest, feeling his own climax inching closer, his fist shut tightly around Mantis' cock as to not get any semen on the desk.

"Go on, come for me you little brat. Pretend its him who took your virginity back then—"

Mantis interrupted him, cursing loudly and biting his arm to shut himself up. Feeling him spill into his hand, Ocelot flexed his fingers and gripped Mantis even more tightly.

Head clearing up slightly after his own orgasm, Mantis realised what was about to happen and struggled against Ocelot. "N-No! Pull out before you—"

But Ocelot dug his teeth into the back of Mantis' neck as he finally released and listened to Mantis' long whine ringing in his ears.

"Good boy..." he mumbled and slumped against the writhing body beneath him, wiping his hand on Mantis' stomach. "I'll bring him back for you."

Crying in relief, Mantis turned - exhaustion reigning his features - and kissed him.

* * *

Mantis’ world came to a grinding halt - in a good way - when Venom received word that, impossibly, the person Ocelot had been hired to torture today was _Eli_. The plan had worked. Venom and Quiet prepared to leave immediately. Mantis waited impatiently for Ocelot to come back so he could grill him on Eli’s condition.

Ocelot came back with blood on his shirt.

“What happened?” Mantis asked, “did you kill them?”

“No, I didn’t want to cause any trouble before the Boss got there.”

“Then… that blood’s not yours, either.”

Ocelot frowned. “It’s Eli’s blood.”

“…”

"He's alright. It was just enough to make it look convincing."

Mantis flinched away when Ocelot reached out to touch his shoulder. "But it's _so_ much—"

"Eli's always been a tough kid. He'll be fine, though he might have to stay in Medical for a while."

"What did you do?!" Getting into Ocelot's personal space Mantis grabbed at his scarf. "You were supposed to save him!"

"He doesn't need medical attention because of what I did, Bogomol. Use your head, do you really think four years as a prisoner of war leave a man unaffected?"

Mantis went silent and looked down, still holding tightly onto Ocelot.

"He'll be _fine_ ,” Ocelot said again, more stern this time and ran his fingers through Bogomol's hair soothingly. "But you should prepare yourself for when he comes back, he might not be in a state to see anyone yet. Give him time."

Ignoring the fact that they were in public, Mantis leaned into his touch, a worried quality to his voice. "You are conveniently leaving out details, aren't you? Tell me what happened to him, I need to know."

“…we should talk in private, then.”

Gulping, Mantis followed Ocelot to his office. He closed the door behind them.

“Tell me everything…”

Ocelot sat at his desk. He looked a little tired, but wasn’t wearing the sort of expression that seemed to say he knew he was about to ruin Mantis’ life.

“Remember those dreams you kept having about him?” Ocelot said.

“Oh, god.”

“This doesn’t necessarily mean that what you saw was the exact event in real-time. Just that the idea was accurate.”

“Is he—“

“They didn’t chop off any limbs if that’s what you’re wondering,” Ocelot said, somewhat dryly. “As I said, he’ll be in Medical for a while, but most of that will have to do with dealing with infections.”

Mantis braced himself on Ocelot's desk, knuckles white.

"But they tortured him?"

"Like I said, Eli is tough, they tried a whole lot to break him." Twirling his moustache Ocelot carefully watched Mantis’ eyes shift behind the lenses of his mask. "When they didn't make any progress with inflicting physical pain on him... they tried psychological torture."

Mantis was silent, Ocelot could tell from his posture that he was tense and deep in thought, cogs in his brain turning as he held onto the desk for dear life.

"So, did they...? Is he—"

"They did,” Ocelot started and the air around Mantis seemed to become distorted for a second - smoke rose from the wood beneath his fingers as a dangerously burnt stench filled the room. "Bogomol, calm down!" He got up and grabbed the boy, pulling him away from the desk. "There is nothing we can do."

Mantis didn't look at him. "It's my—"

"As I said - he'll be fine. They never managed to break him, he's weakened and exhausted, but still has not given up fighting for his life."

Ocelot conveniently left out the fact that Eli had seemed very much broken _after_ he had been done with him.

"What if he doesn't recover? What if he doesn't want to see me anymore?" At this point Mantis' anger had mostly dissolved into fear and worry. He clung to Ocelot again, palms still hotter than normal. "I need him, Ocelot! I _cannot_ lose Eli!"

 _Of course he can't, aside from me it is the only thing that kept him alive these past years,_ Ocelot thought but didn't comment.


	12. Chapter 12

Although no one actively told him, Mantis was the first to know when Venom reported back that he’d successfully exfiltrated with Eli in tow and they were on their way back to Mother Base. In the hours that followed, Mantis stood at the edge of the Command Platform and waited. He knew he should, but he tried not to think about what Ocelot told him.

Maybe Ocelot had been mistaken, hadn't checked Eli properly while he...

Mantis closed his eyes and tried to ignore all outside stimuli, shutting down his own thoughts as much as he could in the process as well, his mind reaching into the skies, little feelers of energy searching for that magnetic pull - the faint memory of a sensation once so familiar.

It never came.

Instead of the gentle rearrangement, pieces sliding into place alongside each other again, the way he had always imagined it, it was as if he had been hit by a truck, collapsing in on himself and clutching his masked face.

Too much. Too much at once and too fast and too brutal, a shameless confrontation with nothing holding back the images, the memories, the years spent in isolation and agony - an unfiltered vision of his own mistakes.

Mantis felt like he was throwing up and binge eating at the same time, overwhelmed by information and spitting out while greedily pushing back in as much as he could. He had to be in control.

Ocelot showed up suddenly in time for their arrival to help him back onto his feet, his chastising words falling to deaf ears.

Mantis was weak on his knees but before the chopper even touched the ground he was approaching, uncaring for Ocelot's shouting or soldiers around them demanding him to stand down.

He had to see. Mantis couldn't trust his own mind, too many a trick it had played on him before. He needed to _see_ what he felt.

The fire was back inside and around him as he saw a flash of pale skin, closed sunken in eyes - like a skeleton, _like me_ , he thought.

It wasn't Eli, this was something else. A physical manifestation of Mantis' own pathetic mind.

Unable to hold himself back he heard Ocelot hiss, the sound far away, as the old man burned his hands while pulling him back.

Away from the fire, into the darkness of his room, locked out from the unreal events going on around him.

Away from Eli.

"You will let me see him,” Mantis growled, voice still distorted to the point that it sounded nothing like his usual demeanor. "You can't stop me."

"First you need to calm the hell down." Ocelot was leaning against the wall, seemingly unimpressed by Mantis' threatening aura, nonchalantly fussing over his wounded palms. "He'll be in surgery for a while and Agama won't let you see him unless you manage to behave like a person again."

"Please—" he broke, tears running down his face, evaporating on the spot and fogging up his mask.

Stepping closer, Ocelot quickly undid his mask and pressed his finger between Mantis' lips.

Out of reflex or shock - he couldn't tell - Mantis opened his mouth and swallowed down whatever poison he'd been given.

Ocelot wrinkled his nose at the smoke coming off Mantis' sheets. " _Calm down_. I know this is hard for you, or whatever - but if you want to stay to see him you need to get ahold of yourself. Your powers don't exist in a vacuum - if the men start considering you a threat you'll be out of here before Eli wakes up."

With that Ocelot turned on his heels and left, leaving Mantis to himself with a peculiar buzzing, gentle warmth slowly spreading through his limbs to chase away that cold fire he hadn't felt in so long.

Eli was back, but Mantis was alone.

* * *

Liquid was patched up, washed, given clean clothes, and placed in a bed somewhere on the medical platform with an IV and curtains for privacy if he wanted it. He really didn’t remember most of the process - it had passed by in a blur that he couldn’t pick the details out of and now that he thought he about it, he wasn’t sure how long he had been lying in bed, either. Maybe he’d fallen asleep at some point.

He vaguely recalled Ocelot’s presence at some point - talking to the medic, probably because Liquid found himself unable to get more than a few words out before clamming up and, like it or not, Ocelot knew what had _happened_ in the POW camp. Liquid still felt dirty, despite being cleaned, and he didn’t realize until now that it wasn’t the kind of dirty that soap and water and disinfectant could do anything about. It was a kind of filth that reached down deep inside him to places that shouldn’t be touched.

Liquid glanced around the room he was in. It was a rather large one, with two rows of beds on either wall, and there were a handful of other guys in here (well, a handful of men, one woman, and a few curtained beds he assumed had someone in them) - all bandaged somehow, broken bones, burns, the like. As far as Liquid could see he was in the worst condition, and he wondered if the reason there wasn’t anyone just lying in here ill was because sickness was confined to a separate room just in case it was contagious.

The other patients were discussing Mantis and how he’d almost blown up/burned down the Command Platform. Liquid, ashamed, pulled the blanket up to his eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake,”said the man a bed over from him, who had a lot of bandages on his chest, “sorry.”

“That psychic kid sure didn’t seem happy you came here,” said the woman, who had a neck brace and a cast on her arm.

“I think he was crying, Tree Frog,” said the sole person younger than Liquid, a boy in his mid-teens who had probably been a ‘rescued’ child soldier, who from the looks of things had sprained or broken his ankle.

“Well, _obviously_ he was upset about _something_.”

“You feel up to talking, kid?” said the man with the bandages on his chest.

“Don’t call me ‘kid’,” Liquid muttered sourly, finally speaking.

…

When Liquid woke up again, the lighting in the room had changed, so he presumed that somehow he’d managed to sleep through the night and it was morning now. Or maybe it had been morning earlier, and it was just afternoon now. It was hard to gauge how long he’d actually slept for when he was still bone-tired, and hard to think about how bone-tired he was when saying he was sore all over was putting it lightly.

Also, Ocelot was here.

Liquid didn’t even look at him.

“Not even going to deign to acknowledge my presence?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Liquid said bitterly. They both kept their voices low so the others in the room wouldn’t pay too much attention. (They probably were anyway.)

“Hm. Well, I’ll speak my piece regardless. As I’m sure you realized by now, Mantis is here.”

“I saw.”

“He’s calmed down some. I told him he could see you when you feel up to it - if he could behave himself.”

“I don’t… I don’t think I want to see him just yet.”

Ocelot raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you miss him?"

Liquid went silent, not bothering to dignify that question with an answer.

"I understand if you need some time to recover but do all of us a favour and give him a few minutes to... well, whatever it is that you two do."

"...why is he here?"

"He's been working for Big Boss for quite some time now. You could consider him a more or less respected member of Outer Heaven."

"Mantis?" Liquid balled his hands into fists. "But... why? He never liked this..."

Ocelot _tsk_ ed and made to leave. “You know how it is - people change. Rest well."

And with that he was gone leaving Liquid to sink deeper into the sheets, trying to hide away from himself and the rest of the world.

He did want to see Mantis, kind of, but also not to be seen by him. If Mantis found out what... Eli had gone through he would never be able to look him in the eye again. He more than suspected, though, that Mantis _already knew_. Why else would he have completely melted down as soon as their minds snapped together? Liquid had felt it too. The shock of it, at least. He had no way of knowing if his memories had ended up in Mantis’ head or not and for now, he felt better not knowing. Hiding.

He felt pathetic.

Out of sheer spite he made an attempt to sit up - but he felt so weak and faint he wasn’t able to haul himself out of bed, to say nothing of how his stitches protested. For now, his body made his decision for him.

* * *

By the afternoon of the second day back at Mother Base, Liquid began to feel a ringing in his skull and knew that Mantis had decided to come to _him_. Liquid was, briefly, petrified, but he didn’t want to cause a scene in the med bay.

He had his eyes closed when he felt a presence at his side, a gust of air and the unmistaken pull of energy.

"You're here..."

"Eli—"

Liquid opened his eyes. "Don't call me that. That's not my name anymore."

There was Mantis, surprised face behind his mask - it was a different one Liquid had not seen before - mop of red curls framing his face, still skinny but now surprisingly tall in his Outer Heaven uniform standing next to Liquid's bed like it was the most natural place on earth for him to be in.

"Can I...?" Unable to wait for an answer or maybe taking Liquid's hesitation for consent Mantis sat on the bed, resting a shaking hand on Liquid's arm. "Don't worry, I am holding up a little privacy for us."

Liquid looked away, unable to stand the worried pity clouding Mantis' eyes.

"You don't have to talk, I understand."

 _Do you?_ Liquid thought bitterly.

"I am just glad I could come to see you... I—" Mantis' hold on him tightened. "I missed you. I was so scared I didn't know if you'd be fine— if they'd find you. We looked for you for so long..."

“’We?” Liquid finally dared to face him.

Mantis looked uncomfortable. "Ocelot and I. Your mother too..."

"What is it between you and Ocelot anyway? Why are you working with him? Why are you here, Mantis? You always hated the idea of the military, of the army - how is this different?"

Finally Mantis let go of him and Liquid exhaled, relief washing over him.

His old friend looked... for lack of a better descriptor _embarrassed_ to Liquid.

"It's... complicated."

"Not like we don't have enough time for you to explain now." Liquid let out a pained, bitter laugh.

“I… well, you know about the KGB,” Mantis started. “Ocelot was there. We didn’t really interact much at first. Then when… well… you know…”

“Hn.”

“After _it_ happened… Ocelot and I had a mutual interest: finding you. We didn’t have a reason _not_ to work together. And Ocelot… he isn’t… he isn’t that bad, Eli.”

“Don’t call me- …bah.”

Mantis wrung his hands. “He helped me a lot,” he said lamely.

“On the condition that you become a ‘more or less respected member of Outer Heaven’?”

“No, that part wasn’t— I originally came here because I needed medical care and we couldn’t trust the hospitals in Russia.”

“Medical care?”

“I… fell in a river. Got pneumonia.”

Even with as terrible and dreamlike Liquid felt, he still knew Mantis wasn’t sharing some key details. Still, he motioned to continue.

“After I was here already, I determined that it was just _easier_ like this,” Mantis said quickly, “I _wanted_ to find you, I wanted you to come home… that’s all that really mattered. The Boss wanted to find you too and he had the Intel Team working on it anyway. What better place could there be for me to work on locating you? Even with all my powers… it’s not something I could have done myself…”

“Were you… involved in actually finding out where I was?”

Mantis shook his head.

“I figured.”

“I, I know what Ocelot did. What he had to do.”

Liquid’s face was blank. _Did he tell you?_ he thought, because he couldn’t bring himself to ask it out loud.

“We knew… the risks of the plan. I’m sorry, Eli.”

For a moment Liquid went very quiet, then turned to look Mantis' directly in the eyes.

"You weren't there. I don't care what he told you or what you saw in my memories - he got off on it. He had _fun!_ It's not like he absolutely had to do it like that."

For some reason Mantis did not look shocked or surprised, mostly uncomfortable as he calmingly raised his hands. "Eli, he— I know he is— ah, I don't want to defend what he did, but—"

"But _what?_ “

"...he saved you." Was Mantis... crying? "I am very upset at him for hurting you, but at the same time I am so grateful for him. If it weren't for what he did I never would've gotten you back..."

"...."

"I missed you so much, Eli. Sometimes I thought I had to die without you at my side,” Mantis choked.

Liquid wanted to scoff or tell Mantis to leave him the fuck alone, but he simply could not bring himself to that. His anger and frustrations were aimless, the physical pain a steady reminder of _what_ they were actually talking about.

Still, he raised his aching arm, skinny and weak, to touch Mantis' chest lightly.

"...I did too,” he said, forcing himself to crack a broken smile. "But I am very tired now."

"Of course!" Mantis gasped and smoothed Liquid's sheets back down, getting up and then willing himself to stop being too emotional. "You need rest. If you need me... if you need anything just ask. Even if it's just some company. We've got all the time in the world now." He made to leave.

"Yeah," Liquid croaked, a hollow echo of Mantis' words. "All the time in the world."


	13. Chapter 13

No one could really blame Liquid for getting restless after having spent three and a half years in a cell. Members of the medical unit - and the others recuperating in the same room - quickly gave up on trying to get him to stay in bed, on the condition that he not do anything even remotely strenuous and not spend too long in the sun. Stay hydrated, don’t re-open your wounds, no running or climbing, come back for meals and pills, don’t go too far from the medical platform, if you feel even slightly light-headed or tired sit down immediately, et cetera, et cetera. As long as he behaved himself, it was figured that being able to stretch his legs would actually go a long way in helping him recover.

Liquid wasn’t great at behaving himself.

A big part of it was how _weird_ he felt being back at Mother Base; in some respects, it hadn’t changed at all since ten years ago. It was a strange comfort but it also made him feel somehow worse than he had even at the POW camp. Maybe he was just… unprepared for things to seem so… normal. Nobody here threatened him. Nobody here even raised their voice at him, even if he acted out. The whole thing felt so surreal that Liquid almost wished someone would beat the shit out of him so he knew this wasn’t just some elaborate hallucination.

The worst part was that there was no place where he could truly be by himself, alone with his thoughts. Sure there were dozens of nooks and crannies across base that he and Mantis had hid in back in ’84 but he was either too tall or... physically unwell to reach those now.

Sighing he leaned against a wall, watching the new recruits train in the sun.

"How are you?" Mantis appeared next to him, his voice gentle enough for Liquid not to flinch.

"...shouldn't you know that?"

Mantis _tsk_ ed. "I'm trying to not be too invasive - I know you don't like it when I dig around in your head."

"How considerate."

"Eli..."

He made to leave. "Don't call me that."

"Do you want to rest in my room? Nobody but me has access to it."

Liquid stopped. "You have your own room?"

Mantis seemed to be smiling sheepishly behind his mask, his eyes turning to small slits. "Well, it's not _my_ room per se. But I kind of took over it - it's insulated so I can take off my mask to sleep without trying to off myself."

Shrugging, Liquid nodded and followed Mantis across base, back to the med bay where the little Faraday cage was tucked away in a unassuming hallway.

The room was dark and cool, mostly unfurnished except for a desk, bed, and a locker – the latter seemingly not part of the original fittings. Some clothes and a pair of boots were scattered on the floor and Liquid grinned to himself, reminded of how Mantis had never been a particularly orderly person.

"You can use the bed,” Mantis said, grabbing a book from the desk and sitting down on it, perched like a vulture.

Liquid, exhausted from seemingly nothing at all shrugged off the outer shirt of the spare uniform he had been given and sank down into the sheets. They smelled like Mantis.

"Since when do you voluntarily read?"

Mantis undid his mask and shook his head to bring his hair back into shape. It was the first time in years that Liquid got to see his face and... Mantis looked, well, nice? The old stitches were gone and while his face was still scarred (even more so now, in fact) and his eyes sunken in like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks (which was entirely possible) growing up had served him well to transform that childishly round and freckled face into something that was all angular lines and cheekbones.

Mantis frowned. "...Ocelot gave it to me. Are you done staring?"

And in fact Liquid was, finally calm enough to let down his guard a little he pulled the blanket over him and hid his face against the pillow.

 _Mantis?_ he thought after a few minutes of silence, a leftover itch in the tips of his fingers keeping him from letting go fully. _Can you stay with me...?_

Instead of a reply, all he felt was another weight dropping down on the bed, a warm hand on his neck and reassuring presence at his side.

As he finally managed to fall asleep, lulled by the gentle touch against his skin, Liquid almost felt... safe.

* * *

The heat was oppressive when he woke up - he wasn’t even afforded the minor relief of sweat, as he was so dehydrated. He couldn’t tell if his vision was blurred or if it was just all the dust floating in the air, suspended in what little light made it into his cell.

He could hear the daily life of the camp outside his door; the insurgents group numbered roughly thirty and of those thirty, all except one - a kid even younger than Liquid - had beaten, tortured, or otherwise hurt or humiliated Liquid. About a dozen of them had an affinity for sexual abuse, though three or four of those had only tried it once or twice…

A camel spider stared at Liquid from the dirty floor near his foot. Deathly hungry, Liquid didn’t think twice before trying to catch it. But he was slow and weak and his hands shook — the camel spider crawled away from him easily. Liquid swore, his voice cracked.

The door to his cell creaked as it opened and Liquid’s whole body tensed on instinct. Between the poor light and his failing eyes, he couldn’t tell which insurgent it was. It didn’t matter, really. They were all the same to him: an amalgamation of pain, shame, and suffering. Mindless, bored sadism.

Liquid couldn’t escape - couldn’t so much as _stand_ on his own, could barely even sit up — his pride as a soldier destroyed, his pride as a man taken away, and he was lesser now than the simplest animal. Even that camel spider could come and go freely. And if they wanted to kill it, they would simply squash it, not drag the whole process out for almost four years.

His face was blank, too tired to emote, as the amalgamation’s rough hand gripped his hair.Fat, greasy fingers ran down his neck, his spine - pulling at the ragged shirt that some graceless soul had thrown at him when it got so cold that his toes had turned blue and numb.

Liquid weakly opened his mouth, not to speak or protest, but to breathe, the tenseness of his muscles leaving him strained.

Inhale. Exhale.

Dust like smoke in his lungs as he struggled not to panic, his mind entirely used to the treatment but his body still ceasing to adjust after all this time. A fitting punishment of endless shame for someone who had dares to let himself be consumed, now spat out onto the dirty ground as his body bent to accommodate.

True to fashion Liquid felt nothing but still his face was wet - he didn't need the cold to become numb anymore.

Like nature reserved protective mechanisms to some of its most adaptive creatures Liquid had learned to follow their lead and shielded what fragile stability he had left by completely shutting down.

But the hand on his neck, too insistent, too inquisitive, pulled him back into the real world - Liquid let out a low guttural growl, snapped his teeth back at his assailant purely driven by instinct.

"Eli—!"

Through the dark Mantis stared at him in shock eyes wide, clutching his fingers to his sleeve to stop the flow of blood from Liquid's bite.

Liquid couldn't speak, just tried to calm his breath, warily watching Mantis wipe his hand on the sheets.

"It's– it's alright..." Mantis whispered, clearly distraught. "'S just me."

"...I'm sorry." Liquid felt his heart hammering in his chest, body still unaware of having woken up.

"No, please. It's my fault! I thought I could calm you, you were tensing up and tossing around like crazy—"

"Mantis—" Liquid choked suddenly, voice thick with tears, and let his head fall down in the pillow, face buried against Mantis' side as his fingers dug into the mattress. "Why didn't you come for me? I was so alone. Why didn't you come?"

Unsure how to react Mantis watched Liquid wail for a minute or two, until finally gathering the courage to cradle his head in his arms. "It's okay,” he said uselessly. And it wasn't. "Everything will be okay from now on, I promise I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

It took a while for Liquid to calm down enough, but eventually - both of them exhausted - he just let himself be held by Mantis.

He was uncomfortable, he didn't want to be physically close with anyone but it didn't matter because this was Mantis and Mantis was warm and gentle and had always liked to sleep close to him. Out of worry or protectiveness, Liquid could never tell.

“Everything feels… strange right now,” Liquid mumbled.

“I know,” Mantis said quietly. He touched Liquid’s hair - brutally short and uneven. “Just give it time.”

“I waited for you…”

“I did all I could to help, Eli, I really did.”

Helplessly, Liquid hid his face against Mantis’ shallow chest. “I know. I know.”

“I can help you now, though. To get better. Get used to life here…”

Liquid felt pathetic, clinging to Mantis like this. It was like he was drowning and Mantis was his lifeline. He looked up at his face, almost shyly.

“This is a good place for you. I know you don’t want to give up being a soldier.”

“Uh-huh.” He pet Mantis’ hair, almost hesitantly. It was soft. He’d clearly been using some halfway decent shampoo. “D’you think we might have been stupid, to leave this place behind ten years ago?”

“I don’t want to think about the past.”

“What else do we have right now?”

Mantis didn’t answer. Liquid kissed him - well, not really. More like pressed his mouth against him. It was probably gross considering Liquid still felt rather sweaty and clammy, but Mantis didn’t protest.

He had done this before - or well, tried it. Once. Mantis had pushed him away, uncomfortable and terribly embarrassed, afraid of Liquid's feelings and even worse; his own desires.

But they had been young and desperately naïve, Liquid had played it off smoothly, inebriated and joking. It wasn't serious.

But all that was not real anymore. And Mantis didn't care about it either, hand running down Liquid's back, he pressed his face back against him, almost nuzzling like a pet. They weren't kids anymore, if they had ever really been. This was natural. Liquid had never gotten the chance to try it, to follow his body's needs and desires on his own volition .

Had Mantis? Liquid opened his eyes, too close to make out the other's expression in the dark but still comforted by the sight of Mantis' silhouette. He was there.

"Eli..." Mantis mumbled against him and shifted a little. "You're so loud."

"Sorry..."

His body still was still filled to the brim with imagery, sensations of his torture, his dehumanisation, not yet caught up with the change of situation.

Liquid was safe but his body didn't feel like it. It _craved_.

Mantis didn't notice, or at least pretended not to and let Liquid inch closer.

He tried to kiss Mantis again, missing his mark by a few inches and hitting the others' chin instead. Mantis chuckled.

 _Why are you so nervous?_ Liquid thought to himself. _It's just Mantis._

" _Just_ me?" Patting his cheek Mantis gave him a lopsided grin. Something deep down in Liquid's guts twisted uncomfortably, cutting loose cold shame that slowly crept up to his chest.

What _was_ he doing? This wasn't right - he was terrified, somehow, somewhere.

Mantis' hand in his hair, his breath on his skin, so much comfort and closeness he didn't recall, all at once.

Without really realising what he was doing Liquid bucked his hips against him, subconsciously - his mind only catching up with his movement when he caught Mantis' surprised expression.

“I’m sorry,” Liquid blurted out, not even really knowing what he was apologizing _for_.

“Oh— it’s okay,” Mantis said. “You don’t have to.”

“Have to- do what?” He was suddenly defensive.

"You don't have to have sex with me,” Mantis said simply.

"I didn't— I was only—" Liquid sat up, wrapping the blanket around him as if it could protect him from what was happening to him. "Y-You were the one who got all close and— _cuddly_ with me! I'm not like this! It's not my fault that I can't—"

"Eli—"

"It's all Ocelot's fault!" Liquid cried and pulled at his hair.

Mantis entire demeanour immediately changed from worried and concerned to visibly upset. “I can make my own choices even if Ocelot is—“

“That’s not what I mean— I mean- I can’t stop thinking about him, I hate it! I hate what he did to me!! I hate that I w-want it… I’m just a stupid s-slut, I just want to be in control of my own body again and I can’t stop thinking about _Ocelot_.”

“Eli…”

Liquid shoved his face in the pillow, muffling his frustrated cries. “I hate it! Everything feels wrong! I didn’t ask for— I have to do _something_ about this…”

“What are you going to do…?”

“Maybe I’ll just go let Ocelot have his way with me for real, and be done with it!”

Mantis’ expression soured further. “Don’t do that, Eli.”

“Why not? _I_ can make my own choices too, can’t I?”

“It won’t change anything!”

“It’ll make me feel better about what happened!”

“It will not!” Mantis snapped. Liquid jumped up off the bed. “Eli, no!”

“I shouldn’t be here anyway.”

“Eli, you can’t— oh, you can’t be serious. Like Ocelot’ll do anything with you anyway.”

Liquid glared at him from the doorway. “And what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“The Boss would have his head.”

Liquid snarled, left - slammed the door behind him. He headed to the Command Platform like a man possessed, his bare feet moving almost on their own. He found Ocelot’s quarters and hammered on the door with his fist, entirely uncaring that the sentries were looking at him funny.

“Just one minute, I was getting ready for bed,” came Ocelot’s voice from the other side of the door.

“Open up, damn it! I need to see you.”

A pause, then Ocelot opened the door. He was partially undressed, his shirt hanging open and his hair down. “Something you wanted to talk about?” he said.

“I…” The wind suddenly disappeared from his sails. Seeing Ocelot’s face seemed to turn the whole world upside-down and he wasn’t sure what he was doing here. This was stupid - he should just leave, go back and apologize to Mantis—

Ocelot stepped back, gesturing. “Come in, Liquid. You can sit down if you like.”

Liquid automatically, helplessly followed the gesture, stepping inside. As the door shut he realized the only place to sit down was Ocelot’s bed. Numbly, he sat there.

All the while, his head was filled with churning, filthy, intrusive thoughts and the one way he was sure he could satisfy them and be able to _calm the fuck down_.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ocelot said with a completely straight face.

Barely able to speak properly Liquid just shook his head, words still spilling from his mouth as he was unable to hold back.

"W-Why did you have to do it like that? Now I am—" Ocelot watched him carefully as he shifted around to find a less uncomfortable sitting position. "You r-ruined me! You made it all so much worse!"

"Eli, you have calm down."

" _You_ don't get to call me that!" Liquid snarled through tears of frustration.

Ocelot sighed. "Liquid—"

"I-I could handle the thought of faceless men brutalising me,— I still feel like death but at least I don't get reminded of them by bloody _everything_ around me!" He uselessly pushed at Ocelot, arms too weak still to really move the older man.

"Liquid," Ocelot said calmly. "Why do you have an erection?"

Liquid froze, eyes wide as his hand struggled to quickly cover his crotch.

"Tsk, you should have just told me you needed help instead of yelling at me like I'm some kind of monster." Liquid didn't move when Ocelot leaned closer to touch his jaw. "I only ever wanted to save you..."

Before Liquid could even open his mouth to give a panicked reply the lights started flickering dangerously. With an ungraceful crash in the middle of the room Mantis made his entrance and started screeching at the top of his lungs.

Ocelot looked annoyed at best, while Liquid felt his face go bright red. This was an awkward position to be caught in, but - more importantly, he felt bad. Just minutes ago he’d been yelling at Mantis and here Mantis had come back to protect him.

“How dare you! How _could_ you!” Mantis yelled at Ocelot.

“He’s the one who came to me,” Ocelot retorted, “you’re responsible for his current predicament anyway, aren’t you?”

“That’s not— I wouldn’t! I can’t believe you! Eli, come on, let’s go.”

“I-“ Liquid started.

“I can’t believe this!” A psychic hand pulled Liquid at the wrist, off of Ocelot’s bed and to the door.

“Mantis, are you _jealous?_ ” Ocelot said chidingly, but was ignored and had the door to his quarters slammed in his face behind Mantis and Liquid.

“…sorry,” Liquid said lamely, staring at his feet, uncomfortably tugging on the front of his uniform.

“Just don’t do that again!” Mantis snapped, then calmed himself, plucking at the straps of his mask. “Ocelot’s not… just don’t, Eli, okay? I’m sorry you’re… frustrated. I wish I could do something.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore…”

They stood there for a while, awkwardly, before Mantis gently took Liquid's hand and lead him back to Medical.

"If you ever need a place to rest you know where to go." They paused somewhere outside, Liquid wasn't really sure where; a tower rose up, railing with chipped paint looking eerily familiar in the dim moonlight.

"Isn't this where... ?"

Mantis snorted. "Yeah, Miller smelled like dead seagulls for days, nobody wanted to talk to him! Not even your–... the Boss."

Liquid smiled weakly. "We were so stupid."

"I'd do it again if he was still around,” Mantis said nonchalantly, now Liquid couldn't help but laugh.

Back at the Medical Platform they said their goodbyes, Mantis disappearing to God knows where and Liquid sneaking back to his bed, feeling weirdly calm and exhausted after everything.

"Is that a hickey?" was all Biting Tree Frog managed to ask before he pulled his blanket over his face and went the fuck to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Liquid lay semi-conscious on the floor, hand over his abdominal wound, breath coming in wet, sick wheezes. Ocelot crouched nearby, casually humming to himself and cleaning up a puddle of vomit with visible semen in it.

“You’re pretty good, Liquid,” Ocelot said without turning around, “not many people can take a face-fucking like that.”

“My throat… hurts…” Liquid coughed.

“It happens.” He took a clean rag and wiped the saliva, vomit, and pre-seminal fluid off of Liquid’s face, his touch much, much softer than before. Disinterestedly he noted the salt at the corners of Liquid’s eyes where tears had gathered. “But the pain goes away soon. How’s your stomach?”

Ocelot helped him sit up, and Liquid hesitantly pulled his hand away from his wound. The bandage was a bit spotted with blood, mostly in the shape of Ocelot’s fingers, but Liquid’s hand came away clean. Not much bleeding, and it had already stopped anyway. So, not reopened, just irritated. “It’s… fine.”

“That’s good.” He kissed his forehead. “I know sex can be a bit on the rough side, but I didn’t want to harm you. Now…” he slipped one hand down, gently massaging Liquid’s crotch, and Liquid twitched, whimpering. “Do you want me to repay the favor?”

Liquid nodded shakily, his hand tightening around Ocelot’s wrist. “Uh-huh.”

“Very well, then.”

* * *

Needless to say, Mantis found out about _it_ immediately. Upset as he was with Liquid for going back to Ocelot the next evening as soon as Mantis had his back turned, he felt the real problem was Ocelot.

“So you _are_ jealous,” Ocelot said, raising an eyebrow.

“You made Eli suck you off!”

“I didn’t make him do anything. He came to me of his own volition - probably because you left him high and dry the other night.”

“What was I _supposed_ to do?” Mantis sputtered.

“Take care of him yourself, obviously. I didn’t need to be involved in this - in fact, I’d prefer not to.”

“Of course you do,” he muttered.

Ocelot frowned, boredly. “You go ahead and have fun with him, Bogomol. If it’s my permission you want, you have it.”

"But— it's you I want..."

"Oh, please! This situation is complicated enough, you two might as well enjoy yourselves now that you're finally back together. Lots of catching up to do."

Mantis took a step back, unsure he worried at his bottom lip.

Ocelot pet Mantis' shoulder and pressed a disinterested kiss against his cheek. "I wouldn't just abandon such a convenient lay like you, you know?"

"You're the worst. If you tried that I'd kill you, so you better be careful..."

Ocelot laughed and let his hand slip down Mantis' back. "Of course, Bogomolechik.”

* * *

Somewhat satisfied with Ocelot's... well. Reassurance? Mantis tried not to think to hard about following the old man's suggestions, instead deciding to just enjoy spending some time with Eli without any wanton attempts of coping with trauma and insecurity.

But Liquid was fragile to handle, jumpy and easily riled up - even quicker than he had been as a child. The best Mantis could do was hold and talk him through his tantrums and anxiety.

More often than not Liquid ended up spending the night in Mantis' room, it was more convenient for both of them (since Liquid actually managed to get to sleep while Mantis could secretly supervise him to make sure he did not engage in any... self-destructing behavior) and while Mantis still liked to stay with Ocelot overnight he found himself with Liquid in his arms more often than not.

The next incident happened much like the first one — Liquid had a nightmare, flashbacks, whatever, Mantis was able to watch them as if he was at the movies. When he woke, clammy and anxious, terribly ashamed of his arousal, Mantis couldn't stand to watch his friend suffer further when he had the power to ease Liquid's pain.

"Shh..." he whispered when he kissed Liquid's neck, then down his clavicles and chest gently. "I can help..."

Liquid protested meekly, even dragging Mantis back at his hair only to be kissed and caressed so insistently that he eventually let go.

As he finally got to peel down Liquid's pants Mantis had to admit to himself that maybe this wasn't completely based on selfless motivations. He licked his lips greedily, looking up under his lashes at Liquid who nervously blinked at him, fingers trembling.

“It’s not- bad, is it?” Liquid said, cheeks flushed. “They always said it was ugly and disgusting—“

“Shh, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Wait, what?”

Mantis kissed the tip.

Liquid’s hands scrabbled in his hair. “W-Wait, Mantis! What do you mean it’s- how do _you_ know how to— you weren’t snooping in my memories _that_ much, were you?!”

“Umm, no,” Mantis said, rubbing his thumb against Liquid’s cock, trying to distract. “Can’t we talk about this later?”

“But I’m confused!”

“I haven't even started yet, though… relax, Eli.”

He ducked down over Liquid’s dick - Liquid gasped, unable to really chase his train of thought. “M-Mantis—“ he started.

“Mmmmmm?"

“You… you… surely you haven't— you hate this stuff … a-ah, fuck…”

 _I told you, we can talk about this later,_ Mantis pushed into his head, annoyed.

“I knew you were jealous, but… I thought it w-was because of— h-hey, your teeth! Shit-“

_I’m not going to bite you, relax._

“But—“

_This is easy for me… don’t worry._

Liquid blinked, bewildered. _Have you done this before?_ he thought; Mantis pressed his hands into his thighs until he shut up, whining.

Despite or maybe because of everything going on Liquid quickly reached his limit, trying desperately not to buck into Mantis' mouth until that choice was kind of taken from him when Mantis bobbed his head just _so_.

He came with a shaking sob, it was a lot, and while he still felt tears running down his face this was so much better than anything he had been forced to _enjoy_ in the past few years.

Mantis was a champ and took all of it, finally popping off when Liquid's shaking came to a halt and his breath started evening out again.

He took the same route up as he had taken down, peppering Liquid with kisses and words of praise until he caught Liquid's lips between his teeth.

For the first time in his life the taste of semen did not make Liquid feel disgusted.

Mumbling his thanks under his breath he felt much more calm and placid — maybe both Mantis and Ocelot were right and all he needed was to get the sexual trauma out of his system, though both of them seemed to have very different ideas of how that was best accomplished.

"I— do you need me to—?" he started.

Mantis flashed a sheepish grin and demonstratively wiped his hand on the sheets. "I'm good."

Somehow this - the fact that Mantis had actively enjoyed helping Liquid with his predicament, pleasuring him - made Liquid feel more heat in his cheeks than the ordeal itself.

"Maybe we should've done this sooner— before I left." Liquid turned his head when Mantis tried to shut him up with his tongue. "Maybe then I would have been smart enough to stay—"

"Doesn't matter,” Mantis mumbled and let his hands wander over Liquid's overwhelmed skin. "We have all the time in the world to catch up now."

Nodding meekly, Liquid frowned. "I just wish— I always thought that you and me would, y'know, at first. Together."

"...let's pretend this is it, then. Not much else we can do." Playfully Mantis ruffled Liquid's hair. "I'm glad you feel better. I'm glad that I can make you happy."

Liquid nodded again, half asleep already.

* * *

As neurotic as Liquid was about getting back into shape, he quickly took to hanging around at the shooting range to get his aim back up to snuff after almost four years of no practice. He wasn’t permitted his own sidearm yet and other Outer Heaven soldiers were leery about giving him anything with a bigger caliber than a .22, though, considering he still looked very much like a strong breeze would blow him away. Wolf, of course, had all the social graces of her namesake and gave him a .40 S&W to use.

“You keep wincing at the recoil,” she observed.

“I just need to get used to it again…”

“Aw… take your time. You’re friends with Mantis, yes?”

Liquid nodded.

“I am Mantis’ best friend,” Wolf said.

“I thought he didn’t like you.”

“That is okay, I do not like him either. I heard that the two of you used to be the terrors of Mother Base when you were stupid little children.”

“That’s… one of way putting it…”

Wolf rubbed her chin. “That was ten years ago, no? Then you ran away together with a Metal Gear?”

“Yes - we stuck together after that until I joined the SAS… he went to the KGB,” Liquid said.

“And that is where he met Ocelot again.”

“Well, yes.”

“Does that bother you?”

Liquid blinked. “Does what bother me?”

“Mantis and Ocelot. Do you really not mind it at all? If I were you, I think I would be annoyed.”

“What _about_ Mantis and Ocelot?”

Wolf stared at him for a second, incredulously.

Liquid felt himself get nervous and repeated his question.

"They're fucking. You know that right? Surely your good old friend Mantis wouldn't keep such an important part of his life from you..."

"...what?" he echoed, voice hollow.

“You didn’t know??? _Wow_.“

Mantis suddenly appeared, out of breath. “Wolf!” he said reproachfully.

“You did not even tell him you are fucking Ocelot!”

“I was going to, I just- well, it wasn’t the right time for it.”

“The right _time?_ “ Liquid said, his voice unintentionally high-pitched. “What do you mean by _that?_ “

“You had enough going on!”

“Mantis, you dumb whore,” Wolf said.

“It’s not like it was any of his—“

“Did you tell Ocelot you sucked my dick?” Liquid interrupted. Wolf burst into uproarious laughter.

Mantis’ ears were red. “He knows. It was his idea, sort of.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

“He knows how much I care about you, Eli! So it doesn’t matter. And _you_ slept with him too!”

“You _what??_ “ Wolf wheezed. “Ocelot???”

Liquid covered his face with his hands. “It’s not like that…”

“I do not understand men. How is Ocelot attracting so many barely legal little boys?”

“Wolf, you’re younger than both of us and Eli is 22 anyway,” Mantis said heatedly. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t jump to it if Quiet gave you the same chance, either!”

“That is different, Quiet is hot. Ocelot is… ew.”

Liquid fervently wished for a hole to open up in the platform and drop him to the bottom of the ocean. Sadly, that didn't happen though. Instead Wolf and Mantis kept bickering until Liquid couldn't take it anymore and fled.

He didn't get very far though, Mantis caught up with him as he was scaling a railing to some upper platform.

"Eli! Come down here! You're going to get hurt!" Mantis shouted up at him.

"Leave me alone, I'm not an invalid!"

Liquid could hear Mantis curse from below before he suddenly appeared at his side, floating.

"Eli, this is insane. You have to talk to me..."

Successfully ignoring him Liquid finally made it to the top and heaved himself over the ledge. He was panting, heart hammering in his chest.

"Fuck— Eli, no..." Mantis reached for him and Liquid followed his gaze to watch a dark stain spread on the front of his shirt.

"Oh..."

Mantis sank down over his lap and frantically pushed his hands against him to stop the bleeding. "We gotta get you to Medical—"

"No."

"?"

"Not before you tell me why you did this."

Mantis eyes were wide, he was clearly terrified, not just of the situation but also of being faced with his own self-made failure.

"I-It was always you, Eli— everything I did I only did for you—"

"So you _fucked_ Ocelot because of _me???_ Are you even listening to yourself?"

Mantis started crying and Liquid didn't feel bad about it at all.

"N-No! I was— it was right after you were shot down, I was so alone, I needed—"

Liquid grabbed him by the wrists. "Wait? Right after I was shot down? That was _four_ years ago, Mantis!"

Looking very small and very lost Mantis didn't dare to look him in the eye. "...yeah."

“Mantis, that’s just- that’s just _wrong_.”

He pulled his hands away. “You kill people. You don’t have a right to complain about something being wrong.”

“That’s different!”

“You are right, it is — it’s better to have sex at sixteen than anything _we_ did when we were _far_ younger.”

“That’s not what I mean. Ocelot’s-“

“You don’t understand what’s between us. He saved me. We only fucked in the first place because I started it, I was trying to pay him back - it wasn’t his idea at all—“

“Pay him back for _what?_ “

“One of my superiors at the KGB… assaulted me.” Mantis sounded like he was choking. “I didn’t want to tell you yet.”

“Oh—“

He kept going. “And do you remember how I said Ocelot brought me here because I caught pneumonia? I got that after I tried to kill myself. Ocelot literally fished me out of the river and performed CPR. And I was abducted by the University while I was looking for you- they brought me back there— Ocelot brought me _back_. You have to understand…”

“Mantis, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Ocelot isn’t bad… it isn’t his fault…” he burst into tears anew, “it’s my fault, Eli, it’s all my fault!”

“Mantis—“

Liquid grabbed Mantis and pulled him close, letting him bury his head in his shoulder. The close contact felt almost like it burned but Liquid was too numb to care. He stared blankly at the horizon, trying to process all of what Mantis had said.

Gradually he became aware of the black crowding in on his vision. Mantis pulled back. “Eli?”

“I don’t… feel very well.”

When Liquid came to he was back in his bed at the medical platform, awoken by the sound of Shadow Agama loudly arguing with someone.

"He needs to rest, I called you here to get the other one and not to interfere with my patient's recovery further."

"Well, seems like they managed to do that by themselves just fine under your supervision." It was Ocelot's voice. Liquid wasn't sure how he felt about that. "Where's Mantis?"

"He refused to leave Liquid's side and I couldn't get him to leave - stubborn little bastard. Fell asleep right next to him - he gets exhausted way too fast, you'll have to feed him better."

Liquid blinked and finally became aware of the light weight nestled against his bed; Mantis was slumped over the side of it, apparently having fallen asleep in his chair.

"I'm not his guardian." Ocelot sounded annoyed.

"Thank God you aren’t,” Agama scoffed and finally let him through.

"Ocelot—" Liquid croaked and tried to protectively wrap his arm around Mantis, held back by the stinging pain in his abdomen.

"You idiot!" Ocelot grabbed Mantis by the shoulders and shook him awake. "He could've bled out or gotten infected!"

"Mh?"

"It's my fault..." Liquid mumbled. "I got... upset and moved around too much."

"Oh! And I am sure you just got upset to the point of reopening your wounds all on your own!" Ocelot looked genuinely... angry. "Don't play dumb with me, Liquid, Wolf told me everything."

"...that bitch,” Mantis tiredly mumbled against Ocelot's grip.

"Why do you even care, Ocelot?" Liquid asked bitterly. "It's not like it isn't your fault in the first place!"

Both Mantis and Ocelot snapped at him.

* * *

Once night fell Liquid snuck back to Mantis’ quarters, hoping to talk. He wasn’t there. Liquid realized now that those times Mantis disappeared like that - he was probably with Ocelot. As terrible as that made him feel, Liquid was starting to think that he shouldn’t try and interfere in the insanity that was going on between those two. Like it or not, Ocelot had gotten to Mantis first. Then Liquid had sucked Ocelot’s cock behind Mantis’ back… then Mantis had sucked Liquid off with Ocelot’s permission and encouragement…? It was a difficult situation to parse and Liquid figured he should just leave it alone for now.

But, he still wanted to be with Mantis. It was all he could think about as he ended up falling asleep in again, in Mantis’ empty yet warm bed.

His dreams were merciful to the point of him being unable to remember them when he was awoken gently by Mantis sliding into the sheets behind him.

"Go back to sleep, Eli."

Liquid grumbled something unintelligible, turning around and burying his face against Mantis' collarbone. Mantis wrapped an arm around him.

"You smell like Ocelot."

"I— yeah. I went to see him."

"Did you have sex?"

"...yes."

"Hm."

Reaching up to softly caress Liquid's shorn hair, Mantis pressed his lips against his forehead. "I'm sorry, Eli. I should have told you sooner..."

"No, I think you're right. I probably would have lost my shit if you had told me right away."

"You kind of did today too, though. I didn't mean to hurt you." Mantis slipped a hand under Liquid's shirt and placed it flat against the bandage there. "It's alright if you can't forgive me, I won't hold it against you."

Liquid frowned. "Don't say that. I– Mantis, you know why I'm upset. It's not because I feel betrayed."

Not completely, at least.

Mantis seemed embarrassed. "You feel left out. You desire me because your body is forcing you to indulge in the things that made you suffer so much— that's why you went to Ocelot, too..."

"Idiot." Liquid looked Mantis in the eyes. "I mean— yes that is probably also a part of it, but I always... y'know. It's not like I never _thought_ about this." He kissed Mantis' chin and bottom lip in an almost apologetic way. "Also I'm sorry about Ocelot. I wouldn't have gone to him had I known that you two... are...."

Mantis kissed him properly this time, pressing his own body closer. "I need him, but I also need you. I always have."

Liquid tried not to feel bad about kissing someone who was already in a relationship, shutting down any doubts or worries in his head effectively by bathing himself in the warm mist of Mantis' mind. He felt possessive, like he needed to have Mantis for himself alone.

"Yes," Mantis gasped against him as he carefully positioned himself in Liquid's lap. "you're hot when you're jealous."

He felt kind of disconnected when he heard himself be referred to as _hot_. Liquid wasn't used to have anything resembling a positive descriptor associated with him anymore. All he could do was stare, ashamed and confused as Mantis called him handsome, strong– his hands beautiful even.

Both of them had changed so much over the past four years and Liquid found himself utterly lost by it. Suddenly he wasn't the more outgoing one anymore, remembering how shy and quiet Mantis had been as a child. Everything was different now.

"But it's good now, isn't it?" Mantis said against his neck and Liquid couldn't argue with that. "Ah, Eli, I need you to fuck me..."

Liquid froze. "...what?"

“Please… you don’t have to do anything.” He pawed insistently at Liquid’s pants. “I’ll do all the work.”

“But I don’t… I’ll hurt you, I don’t want to—“

“Shh, it won’t hurt.”

“But—-“

“It doesn’t hurt when it’s someone who cares about you,” Mantis said, and kissed him on the mouth. “I know how to do it right.”

“Ocelot taught you?” Liquid mumbled.

“I want to do it with you…”

Liquid was uncertain - but it was too hard to resist Mantis. He nodded. Mantis smiled toothily at him and took off both their pants.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered against Liquid’s lips. “I’ll make you feel good.”

“Ummm.”

Mantis looked slightly disappointed when he drew Liquid's half hard dick from his underwear, clearly having expected more enthusiasm.

Grimacing, Liquid shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, this is all a bit sudden, uh—"

"Don't worry,” Mantis assured him and got to work quickly. And he was good at it, too good, it would have almost made Liquid feel a little bad if Mantis wasn't currently putting on a huge show to get him to full hardness.

He felt a slight panic rise in his chest when Mantis finally seemed satisfied and got himself into position above Liquid.

"Finally..." he muttered more to himself than to Liquid and slowly lowered himself down on his dick.

Liquid was terrified, eyes wide as he realised that there was no pain - it was tight and hot and _thrilling_ but there was no crying, no screaming, no blood.

Mantis seemed to be enjoying himself too, still adjusting to Liquid's girth but not at all tense or uncomfortable. "Hah... you're so big."

Liquid turned his face away. What was he doing?

And then Mantis started _moving_.

Liquid swore under his breath, grip on Mantis tightening. He didn’t realize he was stammering out apologies until Mantis shushed him, told him everything was okay.

“You’re…” Liquid gulped. “You’re _wet_.”

Mantis gave a self-conscious little giggle. “I did just come back from Ocelot…”

“Nnh.”

“You’re better than him,” he said. “He was telling me he thinks you’re more attractive than I am but the same’s true for him, you’re so much better… your body…”

“Don’t,” Liquid said weakly.

Mantis kissed him.

"Why is he so mean to you?" Liquid gasped. "Why would he say t-that?"

"He isn't wrong. You _are_ more attractive than me." Mantis bit and nibbled at Liquid's earlobe gently. "I'm used to being ugly."

"But you aren't—" Liquid panted and unable to help himself he rolled his hips.

Mantis awarded him with a little smile and languidly moved against him, both of them getting lost in the closeness of the moment more than the physical pleasure of it.

There was no big climax, no revelations, but it felt good and _so_ satisfying to just let instinct take over and rut into Mantis' warm body.

After they were done they stayed like that for a while, Liquid too exhausted to pull out and Mantis seemingly satisfied with the feeling.

"You did so well," he praised Liquid and kissed his nose. "What a good boy you are..."


	15. Chapter 15

Time passed and life at Outer Heaven became Liquid’s new normal. After jumping through various medical and psychiatric hoops he was able to join the Combat Team, being assigned to the A- through S-rank second unit, the same one that Wolf was in. He moved into barracks immediately and was well-received, though he did unceremoniously discover that his comrades were already under the impression that he was Venom’s literal son. He didn’t know how to explain the situation and frankly he didn’t want to.

Of course, he ended up accidentally calling Venom “father” anyway while having a strop and they had a somewhat awkward heart-to-heart and Liquid ended up crying but ultimately, he was now in a position to say he actually _did_ have a father who _cared about him_.

He also had a mother, as EVA stopped by, though he tried to avoid her. Especially after she caused a scene and punched Ocelot in the face. Somehow she was not banned from Mother Base after that…

The situation between Liquid, Mantis, and Ocelot was publicly known, but it was generally characterized as Mantis ‘cheating on’ Ocelot with Liquid and Ocelot not caring because, though Mantis didn’t realize it, he only considered Mantis a piece of young tail. Liquid’s position in the arrangement was something to be slightly pitied but otherwise he didn’t get any grief over it. People _did_ pick on him for being “daddy’s boy” or whatever but anyone even passingly familiar with his combat performance was pleased to have him as a member of Outer Heaven.

All in all, Liquid was actually quite… happy here. His trauma didn’t magically go away, of course, and he was sure at least some of his bunkmates secretly hated him for the nights he did spend there, but for the most part he was very, very far away from everything that had happened in Iraq.

And he had Mantis. Kind, gentle, funny Mantis, still mostly aloof towards others but with him he was so different and Liquid enjoyed every bit of his attention. 

It took him a while to accept that Mantis had changed, just like he himself had, but as much as he felt a grudge towards Ocelot for what he had done to his friend he also was... grateful? Because Mantis seemed happy, genuinely so. He had grown up from the insecure, quiet child and almost seemed so _normal_ at times, joking around with Wolf and him, that Liquid started feeling out of place himself.

But falling asleep with someone by his side to make sure his dreams didn't take control over him, someone who held him and comforted him, made Liquid genuinely feel cared for. Maybe even loved, he wasn't sure, being too scared to ask, afraid that one question could shatter the supposed peace he clung so desperately to.

In the end it took something entirely else to do that.

There was a regularly scheduled boat from Mother Base to Victoria, Seychelles, because some of the soldiers who had families had moved their families there; once a month, the trip was open for anyone who cared to go, provided they signed up in time. This was the first time Liquid technically had the opportunity to go - last month had been the first time he’d been healthy enough, but he had been out on assignment — unfortunately, he wasn’t aware that he had to sign up for it in advance.

“I can wait until next month,” he said.

“No, you should come,” Mantis said, “I’m going.”

“Oh, you signed up?”

“No, it’s just that the Boss finds me very useful when vetting new recruits.” He sounded rather smug about it. “There’s a group that contacted us wanting to join, and we’re meeting them in Victoria.”

“I see… I don’t suppose you could sneak me on, then?”

Mantis shrugged. “Probably.”

“Why bother with all that?” Wolf said, “you are the Boss’ _son_ , surely you can use that to your advantage just once!”

“But I don’t really want to—“

Despite Liquid’s protests, Wolf was the one who did all the talking with getting him onto the boat. Her master plan was revealed when they got to Victoria and she demanded Liquid pay her back, dragging him to a small ice cream shop by the Jardin Des Enfants. Mantis didn’t do anything to stop her; the new recruits could arrive at any minute, but he could spend time with Liquid and Wolf afterwards.

“Does this happen often?” Liquid asked her.

“Which part? I’ll have you know I never pay for my own ice cream.”

“I meant Mantis coming to read the minds of new recruits.”

“Only if they are close enough that they would be trained at Mother Base instead of one of the FOBs. Nobody wants to fly Mantis halfway around the world just for that… or any reason, really. Mantis never wants to go anywhere.”

“He’s really taken to Mother Base, hasn’t he?”

Wolf shrugged. “I have no idea how he was before.”

“Really quiet and shy. He never talked, I mean never. Not until after we left.”

“He is pretty talkative now.”

“He’s changed,” Liquid said agreeably, “but I actually quite like how he’s grown into himself. He seems happy.”

“You know he is only like that with you, no? He is a huge spoiled brat when you are not looking. He thinks he can get away with anything just because he is Ocelot’s boytoy.”

“Well, can he?”

“Yes, but that is besides the point!”

Wolf wanted to show Liquid the Jardin but Liquid thought it would be better if Mantis were with them too, so they headed back to the docks to see if they were done with the new recruits yet. From a distance, it didn’t look as though they’d even arrived - Mantis was sitting on a railing and Venom was smoking his phantom cigar, that was visible even from the other end of the boardwalk. They seemed to be waiting.

“Do you know how many people it’s supposed to be? Mantis said it was a group,” Liquid said.

“Maybe that is them,” Wolf said, pointing to the _other_ other end of the boardwalk. It was a small group of five, maybe six men; they were all walking close together in the same direction, and were all wearing khaki clothes, so perhaps it was them but nothing else could be distinguished from this far away.

As Liquid and Wolf got closer, they waved to Mantis, who waved back, and they loitered by the seawall observing and waiting for it to be done. As the group of men got closer, Venom put away his phantom cigar. As they got close enough for Liquid to actually make out their faces, the whole world shattered all at once.

He was distantly aware that Wolf was suddenly worried about him and tugging on his sleeve. He could _feel_ Mantis processing the revelation, his blood boiling - it literally felt like it was boiling - while both Venom and the new recruits were obliviously greeting each other.

Mantis stood still, eyes wide, pressure building as the apparent leader of the group explained to Venom in halting English that they had been part of an anti-US, anti-Saddam faction during the war that had broken out over Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait; they’d barricaded themselves in an emptied-out village for a time but after several years, they had to admit the war was over. Unable to return home with Saddam’s government still in charge, they broke into groups, left Iraq, and these ones had taken up contract work and now wanted to join Outer Heaven for the various benefits it provided its mercenaries.

“ _That_ is certainly a sanitized version of events!” Mantis finally burst out, his voice unnaturally amplified. “You only left your encampment because your prisoner suddenly disappeared!!”

“What?” Venom said.

“Boss, these men are—!” Mantis pointed a finger at the leader who had just been speaking, petrifying him in place. “I see all your disgusting secrets! I know them too well!! _You_ , you are a rapist! You raped your prisoner!” He pointed at the taller man behind him. “You as well, even more often! You never went so much as a week without violating him!” He pointed at the third man. “You would beat him until he was unconscious just for _fun_.” At the fourth man. “You did _both!_ You raped _and_ tortured, because pulling out fingernails wasn’t enough _fun_ for you!” The fifth man. “You did any disgusting thing you could think of to humiliate the prisoner. When you couldn’t get it up anymore, you used a gun!” Finally he rounded on the sixth person in the group, a significantly younger boy who had been cowering even before Mantis had started yelling. “And you’re the worst of all, you _watched_ it all happen and did _nothing!_ “

Mantis' accusations far away somewhere at the back of his mind had Liquid fleeing - muscles straining as he ran and ran and ran, leaving people, cargo containers, and store fronts behind him, moved up stairs, across roofs and down again, not bothering to look back even once.

On autopilot he ran until his legs gave up and he slouched down against a house wall, nails digging into the exposed plaster that crumbled into dust under his touch.

His lungs were burning and his clothes were soaked with sweat, he felt like passing out but somehow the faint echo of what was going on back at the harbor still reigned in his mind.

Maybe they were already dead, gone, knowing Mantis he had probably popped their heads like grapes, unable to hold back his anger because he knew all too well all the little details that Liquid has so desperately tried to forget.

Then he felt Mantis reaching out for him, a sticky hold on his mind that made him pull at his hair. "Oh god— stop!!"

 _Your father won’t allow any of them to ever step foot in Outer Heaven,_ he heard Mantis’ voice in his head. _I made sure of that. We don’t want those types here…_

“Go away! I don’t want-“

_We let them go._

“What?”

 _It’s only fair. You should be the one to kill them_.

“N-No,” Liquid gasped to thin air, “I can’t- I can’t face them.”

_I’m here._

And he was there - Liquid didn’t even see him coming until Mantis had placed his hands on either side of his head, a protective crown from the furious being floating in the air behind his back. Liquid felt like he was on fire and completely frozen at the same time. His limbs felt locked in place.

“No one can see us here,” Mantis whispered. “I made them follow me. They’ll be here any moment, pick up your weapon.”

Liquid fumbled for his sidearm with cold fingers.

“Not that. That’s not personal enough.” He pressed Liquid’s knife into his hands without Liquid realizing he’d even moved. “I know you don’t want to face them, but you need to… you need to look them in the eyes as they die. They need to understand why they _deserve_ this.”

“Can’t you just- couldn’t you just do it for me?”

“This is your one chance to get revenge, Eli. Don’t miss it.”

Liquid had trouble focusing his vision as his tormentors rounded the mouth of the alley he was panicking in. They stopped when they saw him.

“Recognize him, do you?” Mantis said to them.

Liquid’s hands were shaking so bad he dropped the knife - overwhelmed, he dropped to a crouch, groping blindly for it. He didn’t want to look at the men but he couldn’t bear to look away. He was _scared_ , and he felt so, so pathetic and small—

They seemed to realize that Liquid wasn’t much of a threat right now, and relaxed. One of them had the gall to laugh at him.

That did it.

Liquid’s fingers brushed something and he grabbed it, unblinking. It wasn’t his knife, it was a discarded length of rusty pipe, but it didn’t matter — he was moving before the insurgents realized it, before _he_ realized it. In the space of a heartbeat the tall long-bearded one’s face was caved in with a hideous wet crunch. Liquid pulled back and hit him again, and again, even as he fell to the ground. His ribcage turned concave.

The brief moment of shock and disbelief turned to fear and the remaining insurgents tried to escape, but they ran into an invisible wall at the mouth of the alley — Mantis wasn’t about to let them leave. Liquid looked up from the dead one. He felt so… calm. The pipe snapped in his hands and he shoved the pointed end into the corpse’s stomach, leaving it there.

“ _I_ recognize you,” he said in Arabic.

Mantis handed him his knife. Liquid zeroed in on the short, stocky man, deciding the first thing to go would be his eyes. He’d always looked at him with such disgust and disdain, like he was worse than dirt on the bottom of his feet - Liquid would make sure he’d never look at him like that again for the very short rest of his life.

“No, please!” the man yelled as Liquid plunged the blade into his skull. “Please-!!”

“How many times did _I_ beg you?!” Liquid demanded. “How many times! You never showed an ounce of mercy and you expect it _now?!_ “

“Oh, God—“

“Prayers won’t help you now! This is your punishment!!”

Liquid pushed him to the ground, blind and screaming, face covered in blood and wounds, and stomped on his jaw. He stomped and kicked until his boots were covered in gore and then he picked up the sorry corpse and threw it at one of the trapped rats, bowling him over. He took his knife again and stabbed, over and over until the blade snapped off and the screaming stopped.

Two left. One pushed the other in front of him. Liquid grabbed the front of his shirt and threw him against the wall, snarling and banging the back of his head against the brick until his brains smeared out. Finally he turned on the last one, his breath hot and his lungs burning as he strangled him with his bare hands. Liquid watched capillaries pop in his cheeks and eyes. He watched as the last light faded out and the worthless fucker who had violated him so often finally died.

He tried to catch his breath and he couldn’t. They were dead. They were gone, all gone.

Mantis looked around. “I thought there were six of them…” Hearing English again felt like some strange whiplash.

“It was… ah,” Liquid stumbled over his words. “That boy. He got away.”

“Let’s go find him.”

“No, it doesn’t matter, he never— this isn’t everyone, anyway. Let’s just… clean up. I want to go back to Base now, I’m… I’m tired.”

Mantis finally alighted back on the ground, giving Liquid a sympathetic look. “Okay,” he said, squeezing his arm. “You did well, Eli. I’m proud of you.”

“Hn.”

“You see what you can do about rinsing off your uniform, I’ll dump these bodies… will you be alright?”

Liquid nodded dumbly.

By the time they got back to the docks, they were both still pretty wired but were reasonably sure they had cleaned up well enough. Certainly Wolf didn’t seem to notice anything was particularly amiss, at least physically; she grabbed both of them and demanded to know what had happened and if Liquid was alright.

“I’m fine now,” Liquid said. His voice sounded a little far away. “Mantis calmed me down.”

“And who calmed _Mantis_ down?” Wolf said, “you were both so upset. Oh, Liquid… I am so sorry you had to be confronted with that. I saw the Boss sent them away. They won’t be allowed to join.”

“I know.”

“I told him,” Mantis said quickly. “We should go back to the boat.”  
  
As they walked Wolf raised an eyebrow at Liquid. "...where's your jacket?"  
  
"I, uh, must've lost it while freaking out."  
  
"Hm."

Venom was waiting by the gangway. Liquid couldn’t help but hesitate when he saw him.

“Are you alright?” Venom asked.

“Y-Yes. I’m fine now.”

“Hm.” He was looking at a spot on Liquid’s shirt; Liquid looked down, saw some blood that he’d missed and covered it with his hand guiltily. “You lose your knife?”

“I… yeah.”

“Take mine. I’ll get a new one when we get back to Base.”

“R-Right. Thank you…”

“I understand why you were upset, but you seem to have handled yourself just fine, Eli. …good job.”

Liquid flushed. “Thank… you.”

Below deck Mantis ushered Liquid into a small one stall bathroom, both of the exhausted, overstimulated and utterly aroused.

Mantis didn't even bother to take off his mask before tackling Liquid and pressing him against the door, undoing at his belt with greedy hands.

"M-Mantis..." Liquid stopped him, shaking a little. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Finally he undid his mask and dropped it on the floor carelessly. "You're rock hard."

"???" Liquid followed Mantis' gaze to his crotch and silently prayed that it hadn't been that visible when they had gotten back to the boat.

"You did so well," Mantis flashed a grin and caressed Liquid's arms. "They deserved it. I loved watching you...."

Liquid nodded, feeling that Mantis was just as excited as he was when he pressed closer and started kissing him deeply.

Only when his dick hit the back of Mantis throat he felt the tears roll down his cheeks, throwing his head back in the hopes that Mantis wouldn't notice.

If he did, he didn't show it. Instead he kissed Liquid's thigh and pulled himself back up, unzipping his own pants.

Grabbing Liquid's hand and wrapping it around both of them Mantis start rutting against him, into his closed fist, hiding his face against his neck.

"It's alright—" he mumbled. "Nobody can you hurt here. I–"

Something inside of Liquid snapped and he hoisted Mantis up into his arms, fingers digging into the back of his thighs when he bit Mantis' shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

Mantis was way too loud but Liquid couldn't bring himself to care.

Licking his lips, the sweet taste of Mantis' blood melting on his palate, he finally _felt_ something.

And as he heard Mantis' gasp while he came into his hand Liquid smiled.


	16. Chapter 16

“I feel as though I should give you a heads up,” Venom said when they got back to Mother Base, “you had already run off at that point, but one of the attempted recruits wasn’t outed by Mantis as a war criminal. He’s young and didn’t seem to want to be with the others in the first place - I decided to let him join and have a chance at redeeming himself.”

“Oh,” Liquid said, with a flat effect. “A young boy, right?”

“Right. His new name is Night Kudu. He has a background with livestock, so I’ve assigned him to work on the Animal Conservation Platform. That means you won’t be crossing paths with him.”

“Oh… alright.”

“He specifically requested that,” Venom said, “to assign him somewhere where you wouldn’t have to see him. I was going to anyway, but I also thought you deserved to know he’s here.”

Liquid nodded.

“Will there be an issue, Eli?”

“I— I know I’m not the only one here who is now serving alongside former captors. I’ll be fine.”

“To be clear - from what I understand, he treated you with the minimum standards of care for a POW?”

“Yes. He did… just him. He never- he couldn’t do anything about the others, but he did his best to follow the standards from the Quran.”

“Alright. That’s good. Don’t forget you can come talk to me at any time, Eli.”

“I know…”

From the perspective of running a PF, Liquid did have to appreciate Venom’s decision to hire ’Night Kudu’ on. There was no reason not to - as Liquid had said, he wasn’t the only one who was here side-by-side with former captors. Hell, he was here alongside people _he_ had taken hostage back in the day. ‘Kudu’ hadn’t been bad to Liquid, what had happened had been everyone else; from that point of view alone, Liquid told himself that if Pequod didn’t have a problem with Liquid in his helicopter than _he_ shouldn’t have a problem with Kudu all the way over on the AC Platform where he’d never actually see him in person.

Was he uncomfortable? Yes. But there were plenty of other reminders he’d grown used to - scars and aches, the diazepam he took to control his flashbacks, Ocelot. He could get used to Kudu.

Didn’t mean he didn’t avoid him. At least he didn’t go to the AC Platform very often in the first place - really only had reason to visit if he was looking for Venom. For now, if he wanted to see his father, he could just wait until he got back.

Mantis was much more upset about than Liquid was. His accusation that Kudu had been “the worst of all” for his cowardice had been heartbreakingly sincere. All the guilt of the insurgents was, in Mantis’ opinion, shouldered by the only one who had actually stopped to think about how what was happening was wrong. If he’d been protective of Liquid before, he was downright possessive now.

Liquid wanted to explain that Kudu hadn’t been in a _position_ to help - that if he’d actually tried to _stop_ anything that had happened then he would have just ended up in a cell next to Liquid, and then Liquid would have no one to sneak him extra water and fire-warmed blankets on cold nights. Yes, he was a coward and no, Liquid didn’t want to ever see his stupid face again even if they were comrades now. But there was a reason why Liquid hadn’t cared when he realized he wasn’t with the rest of the group that he and Mantis had killed. Mantis just wouldn’t listen…

It hadn’t exactly been a pleasant shakeup, and Mantis’ clinginess was starting to feel chafing - he was even spending less time with Ocelot now in favor of hovering around Liquid - but things went back to their ordinary routine soon. Flaming Buffalo had heard about what happened and made him talk to the counselor, Sapphire Cougar, before their unit left on a week-long assignment, but Liquid was easily cleared and nobody actually brought up the killings. Things continued more or less as they were before, and Liquid tried to forget.

Another part of ordinary life at Mother Base was that Liquid occasionally got into a stupid argument and lost his shit on someone. This time it was a member of the Security Unit, Solemn Toad, who had made a disparaging comment about Mantis (called him a “faggot whore in too-small pants”) and got snippy with Liquid when Liquid told him to shut up. It escalated into a knife fight. Doom Kangaroo had to break it up.

Naturally they were both punished - Solemn Toad would be scrubbing the showers and Liquid would be scooping shit on the AC Platform. Liquid also received a long lecture about drawing his weapon on fellow soldiers, and the kind of conduct that was expected of him as the Boss’ son… it was probably the fifteenth time he’d heard it already.

Perhaps it was a mixup in assignments or nobody had informed whoever was making the schedule of Liquid’s preferences, but his punishment detail ended up coinciding with Night Kudu’s shift. Liquid didn’t realize it at first. Neither did Kudu. He seemed even more shocked to see Liquid than Liquid was to see him, and immediately hid behind a bale of hay.

For a few long moments, Liquid didn’t know what to do.

He almost felt like he’d stepped out of his own body when he shouldered his shovel and walked over to Kudu. The kid was petrified - looked down as soon as he saw Liquid.

“Good morning,” Liquid said.

“…”

So conversation wasn't on the table, fine for Liquid. He didn't know why he felt so morbidly curious, why he ached to hear Kudu's voice again.

Instead of bothering the boy further he dropped his shovel in the dirt, grabbed a waft of hay from the stack and crouched down to get closer to the greedy goats behind their gate. The animals jumped and bucked at each other, eager to be the first in line to feed, flehming their lips and tonguing at single ears of hay.

Liquid grinned.

" ...careful,” Kudu spoke in broken English before switching to Arabic. "Don't tease them, Laila is pregnant. If they fight too hard they could hurt her."

Liquid pulled his hand back and at length dared to turn his head to look at Kudu gathering more hay in his arms.

"Y-You want to feed them?" The boy asked and swallowed thickly, clearly terrified by Liquid's presence.

“Yeah. It’s more fun than cleaning enclosures, anyway. You were a goatherd back in your home village, right?”

“You… you remember th-that kind of thing…?” He started spreading the hay he had in small handfuls over the fence, causing the goat congregation to break up as they scrounged for food. “We can go in now. I’m going to move Laila to a separate pen. You can put that hay in… over there… see?”

“Right…”

The goats followed Liquid, clamoring and baa-ing loudly. He wasn’t sure that Kudu spreading hay around beforehand actually did anything to keep Liquid from being mobbed and having hay grabbed out of his arms. One of them bit his hand on accident.

“Do you like working here?” Liquid asked.

“…i-it’s nice. I like… being away from the others. The ones I was with b-before, I mean. I never wanted that…” he trailed off.

“You know the Big Boss of Outer Heaven is my father, right?”

It was somehow possible for even more color to drain from Kudu’s face. “O-Oh! I didn’t realize. Y-You do look like him!”

“I’m adopted.” He didn’t explain the rest of the situation.

“…um. Sometimes I have a hard time telling… westerners apart. I’m s-sorry…”

“There’s lots of westerners here, so I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Are there baby goats? I want to see them.”

Kudu seemed startled by the jump in conversation. “Oh. Uh. Yes! Right over here.”

He lead him to a barn. There were various small, fluffy babies and a handful of adult female goats, obviously the mothers but damned if Liquid could tell which kids belonged to who. Knowing Venom at least a few of them were orphans. He turned to Kudu. “Can I pet them? Is that allowed?”

“Ah, your father comes here to pet them all the time. He likes the goats a lot.”

“Getting along with him, are you?”

“I— he’s my boss now, s-so I’m happy if he likes me!”

One of the mother goats unexpectedly rammed Liquid from behind, knocking him clear on his front. Liquid pushed himself to his knees, sputtering.

“Oh no!” Kudu gasped. “I’m sorry! She thought you were going to hurt her kid. I should have warned you that would-“ he helped Liquid get up. He touched Liquid on the arm, where his sleeve was, so there was no direct contact but it still felt to Liquid somehow like he’d been doused with acid. It cut through the depersonalization and overwhelmed him so immediately all Liquid could do was let out an awkward, somewhat hysterical laugh as he stood.

Kudu jerked his hands back, like the touch had burned him too. “I’m sorry, pilot,” he stammered.

Liquid blew up. “No! Don’t call me that!! You will call me Liquid Snake and nothing, _nothing_ else!”

“Y-Yes, yes! I’m sorry!! Liquid.” He said it like _lick-id_. “I know. I didn’t mean to call you… I just m-meant… I’m sorry!!”

Liquid rubbed his shoulder where Kudu had touched him, forcing himself to calm. It could be so difficult to mind his reactions and that brought him no amount of shame - he hated feeling so out of control, even when he knew he was in a safe place where he belonged and was well-liked. “I… I didn’t mean to snap.”

Kudu shook his head.

“Why did you join Outer Heaven? Why here, why now…?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I c-can’t go home. I wouldn’t have come if I’d known you were here - I would h-have just run away in the middle of the night—“

“You didn’t want to see me again?”

“…I didn’t think _you_ would want to see me again.”

“But what about you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Kudu said. “I am glad that you are safe and healthy now, pilot. Sorry! I mean, Liquid…”

“Forget it,” Liquid said, abruptly turning and leaving.

* * *

"You seem upset,” Ocelot commented as Mantis straddled his lap, undoing the mask with a frown. "Nice of you to show your face every once in a while."

Mantis didn't reply, just started messily kissing him, grabbing at the collar of his shirt and popping it's buttons with invisible fingers.

Ocelot let him. He didn't particularly care for all those teeth or how Mantis' hard cock strained the front of his pants, digging into Ocelot's stomach needily. But it _had_ been a while.

"How come you only ever come see me at night anymore?" he teased and slipped a hand under Mantis' waistband to grope his ass. "I thought Liquid is busy during the days now."

Mantis stopped immediately, pulled back and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "I don't wanna talk about _that_ ,” he growled.

"But isn't that why you came? You didn't need me for sex lately, I doubt you only showed up to maintain your image of the Intel Team’s resident slut?"

Mantis tried to slap him, powers making his hand move impossibly quick - still Ocelot caught him by the wrist just half an inch next to his face.

Finally Mantis faltered.

"Ocelot, pleaseee!" he begged and started massaging the old man's shoulders as if nothing had happened. "Can't you do something about this?"

"Like what?"

Mantis pouted and shrugged. "You haven't used your toys on anyone in a while."

"And you want me to waste them on Liquid's new little boyfriend? I seem to recall you enjoyed them quite thoroughly - I could help take your mind off things—"

"Make Kudu disappear." Mantis had gotten really close, whispering against Ocelot's ear. "I'll give you anything you want."

Grinning to himself Ocelot whispered in turn: "I already took everything I wanted from you."

Mantis shivered and, seemingly despite himself, licked his way back into Ocelot's mouth.

“Besides, the Boss likes him.”

“Who, Kudu? Why does everyone like that stupid, smelly goatfucker?”

“Don’t make me send you to racial sensitivity training.”

“I didn’t mean all Arabs, just him!” Mantis pouted. “I don’t get why people like him…”

“…and not you? People tend to not like manic whores, Bogomolechik.”

“You’re just mad you can’t keep up with me.”

Ocelot pinched him, annoyed. “Is being impossible to keep up with supposed to be a point in your favor?”

“You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young, haven’t you!”

“You don’t even want to _know_ what I was up to when I was your age.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a kid.” He leaned to kiss Ocelot, but instead bit down hard on his cheek. Ocelot shoved him off, crushing him against the desk.

“Damn you, that’ll leave a mark!”

“Good! I want people talking about us again.”

“If being known as my pet gets you off so much, then maybe you shouldn’t be flouncing around Base like a tramp!”

Mantis spread his legs performatively. “It’s _your_ fault you don’t do anything to stop me.”

"Why would I? You're free to do as you please."

Frowning, Mantis slowly undid his pants. "If you're gonna be no fun at least fuck me like you mean it?"

"Isn't that what Liquid's for now?"

Mantis flashed a smug smile and took Ocelot into his hand, stroking him gently but making sure the scrape of his nails was noticeable enough. He knew well what the old man liked by now.

"Eli is lovely. He's so gentle with me, sometimes I think he forgets what I am. He spoils me with all the things you never bothered to give me."

"Hm," Ocelot hummed and steadied his breath when Mantis started using his mouth. "Didn't think you'd lower yourself to the point of being satisfied with boring vanilla sex."

 _Pop_. "Jealous?" Mantis grinned but Ocelot promptly shut him up by shoving his dick down his throat.

"Who knows, maybe you'll crawl back to me when Liquid finally decides he has enough of you. He really seems to like that Kudu boy - I don't blame him, maybe he wants to be with someone who isn't a manic little slut."

The pain was brief and sharp and spurred Ocelot on further, entirely used to Mantis affinity for using his teeth. He just retorted by wrapping his hands around Mantis' neck and stroking his jugular.

Just like old times.

Only that the discomfort and fear in Mantis' eyes had given way to downright euphoria.

* * *

Mantis sighed in frustration. “Eli—“

“Sorry,” Liquid said, shaking his head. “I’m- distracted. I don’t mean to be.”

Mantis scowled. He wasn’t trying very hard to hide his dissatisfaction though it admittedly did look silly with him mostly naked and perched on Liquid’s knee. “It’s that damn Kudu.”

“It is not. He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“I can read your mind, Eli! You have Stockholm syndrome.”

“It’s not like that…”

“What else would you call it? You are so preoccupied with _him_ and you are losing interest in _me_.”

“I’m not losing interest in you,” Liquid protested weakly, turning his head away.

Mantis took him by the jaw - gently, but brooking no argument - and turned him back to him. “What’s the matter, then, Eli?”

“I’m just not… I don’t think I’m really… into this. I don’t think I can give you what you want.”

“Don’t be silly. I love what you give me.”

Liquid let himself be kissed though he did not reciprocate. "...but what if I don't?"

" _What?_ " Visibly paling, Mantis pulled back and stared at him. Liquid tried to wince at the slightly irritated quality to his voice.

"I– Mantis, sometimes I crave a... change of pace? I like doing what we do, it feels good but also I... want to be where you are. I think it’d be more... comfortable for me."

Mantis stared at him, lack of understanding clear in his face. "You want me to be on top?"

"Y-Yeah," Liquid shrugged sheepishly. "I don't like being... the driving force as much... I want to— it feels good right? I want to feel good like that too.”

Mantis grabbed at his crotch again. "You don't know what you're talking about! It feels better to be in charge, trust me!"

"...you ever did it?"

Faltering, Mantis shook his head. "Ah, but I can sense how it feels in comparison..., it's–"

Liquid pushed him off his lap and back onto the bed gently before getting up and smoothing his shirt."I'm sorry," face in his hands he shook his head and hid. "I'm not—

"Is this because of _him?_ " Mantis snapped.

“What, Ocelot?” Liquid said.

“No! That stupid boy you keep thinking about.”

“Isn’t he about your age?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Mantis fumed, also getting up.

“Well I don’t see what Kudu has to do with me wanting to try it the other way around.”

“You didn’t start wanting that until after Kudu got here!”

Liquid boggled at him. “What. So?”

“You just want Kudu to fuck you!!”

He was taken aback. “What? No I don’t!”

“Then why have you been thinking about him so much?!”

“I can think about someone without wanting to have sex with them - what is wrong with you?” Liquid huffed. “I’m just… curious about him.”

“Curious about his dick more like.”

“Mantis!”

Mantis stomped on the floor like a petulant child. “I’d rather you go to Ocelot than _him!_ “

“Maybe I bloody will, then!!”

Mantis seemed to only now realise what he had said, moving to stop Liquid from leaving but he just ignored him, fixing his pants and shirt on the way out.

"Eli..." Mantis mumbled and wiped his face, expression strained. "I didn't...."

The door slammed shut leaving Mantis behind half-naked and regretful. Still he knew he needed to come out on top of this for them to return to the status quo. Even if that took sacrifices.

 _Fine_ , he thought and said at the same time as he held the door open a crack. _Do as you please. I know you'll come back to me eventually anyways! You need me!_

Liquid didn't react, wherever he was now, and Mantis slunk back into his dark room, too unmotivated even to go find distraction elsewhere. For now.

Meanwhile, Liquid was once again knocking on the door to Ocelot’s quarters in the middle of the night and receiving unsettled looks from passing sentries. At least this time he didn’t shout at him before being let in.

“Did Mantis send you to fetch something?” Ocelot asked.

Liquid shook his head angrily. “We had an argument.”

“Over Night Kudu, I’m guessing.”

“It didn’t start out like that, I…”

“Mantis has been awfully frustrated over Kudu lately - he even asked me to get rid of him, have him transferred.”

Liquid paled. “Did he really?”

Ocelot shrugged noncommittally. “I refused, of course. The Boss likes him. Nobody’s had any complaints about his work on the AC Platform.”

“I don’t understand why Mantis is so upset. I mean, I do, he’s jealous — but I don’t know why he’s jealous of- of Kudu.”

“Well, what did you say to him that started the argument?”

Liquid looked down, feeling his face heat up. Coming to Ocelot had been entirely an impulsive decision and he was now slowly realizing that he wasn’t entirely comfortable being here, but Ocelot was being so even-keeled right now, speaking to him as if he genuinely wanted to help him…

"I— when we, y'know, he always expects me to... uh, do all the _work_..."

Ocelot snorted, sounding disinterested. "You mean when you two fuck."

"...yeah."

"Typical. Despite his dominant personality Mantis is a proper pillow princess. I'd chalk it up to him being lazy but seeing how motivated he can get during, shall we say, other activities it is somewhat surprising."

Reluctantly, Liquid took a seat when Ocelot mentioned for him to do so and nervously touched his slowly regrowing hair. "I tried to ask if we could swap places for once but he somehow started ranting about Kudu and got really upset."

"Little brat. And here I thought I raised him to appreciate good bedside manners."

Liquid felt incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, he didn't want to hear about anything that happened between Ocelot and Mantis (at least not right now) though he had to admit to himself that he was somehow curious as to how... Ocelot managed to handle Mantis.

No, he shook his head. "Mantis isn't a dog, I have to manage to deal with him on my own. I'm sorry to bother you so late at night..."

"If anything, Mantis is a cat - and a badly behaved one at that." Ocelot sighed though Liquid was pretty sure that it was just for show. "And I am not bothered. If there is any way I could... assist you with your predicament I'd be overjoyed."

"Uh..." Liquid tried to not grimace when Ocelot placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Ocelot?"

"Yes?"

“Is this… really alright?”

Ocelot raised an eyebrow. “You’re looking to _me_ for reassurance?”

“I just— don’t know what to do right now.”

Ocelot’s hand moved down to his back. “I could go talk to Mantis for you.”

Liquid grimaced. “No thanks.”

“Would you prefer some hands-on help, then?”

“What do you mean?” Liquid said, despite knowing full well what Ocelot meant.

“If you don’t want me to show Mantis, then I can show you.”

“…”

He felt Ocelot’s fingers press against him, a massage that seemed like it was supposed to be comforting. Liquid felt timid - and he hated that he did, he was embarrassed by his own hesitance. This was the best way to get what he wanted, wasn’t it? So why _shouldn’t_ he?

“Alright,” Liquid said quietly, trying not to sound so dubious.

“You seem unsure,” Ocelot called him out immediately.

“Like you care. Probably just makes it better for you.”

Ocelot _tsk_ ed, sitting next to Liquid and putting his other hand on his leg. “I’m afraid I’ve given you the wrong impression of myself.”

“No, I think I understand you just fine, Ocelot.”

Eager to do _something_ about his discomfort, Liquid shifted closer. He leaned in. He felt Ocelot fondling him, tried to let his hands wander in turn but felt oddly slow and paralyzed…

He gasped and squirmed out of Ocelot’s grasp.

“Liquid? What’s the matter now?”

“I— I can’t… this is t-too much.”

Ocelot sighed. “Go back to Mantis, then.”

“I… didn’t mean to waste your time.”

“Good night, Liquid.”


	17. Chapter 17

Liquid still felt numb when he found himself on the AC Platform, scratching a goat between its horns absentmindedly as he watched the herd play around in the muted red of the rising sun — energetic animals so unlike himself, free of sorrows and baggage.

Suddenly a loud bang echoed from behind him and the goat quickly took off. He turned around.

"Kudu? What are you doing here? It's like what, six in the morning?"

Kudu looked caught and fidgeted around a bit, not daring to move closer he crouched down to pick up the pitchfork he had dropped. "I-I always get up around this time to watch the goats... they play so happily in the early morning. But at the moment I'm staying here during the nights to take care of the new kid..."

"Oh." Somehow, Liquid felt like he shouldn't be surprised at that, maybe he was just too paranoid for his own good. "Well, you can join me then, though I think you scared them off with that din."

"I'm sorry..." Kudu mumbled and finally approached the enclosure, though Liquid wasn't sure if the apology was directed at him or the goats.

"You mentioned the kid, so how is Laila doing?"

Kudu's expression turned sullen.

"There were complications... she, ah, didn't.... make it."

Liquid didn't know what to say, he just stared at Kudu until the boy looked away in embarrassment? discomfort? and frowned. Eventually he spoke. "But the kid is doing fine?"

"It is still weak, I need to feed it every few hours and keep it warm. I don't want to leave it alone for long, but sometimes I have to, y'know...."

Chuckling, Liquid nodded. Kudu seemed really childish for someone who pretty much took care of all the animal on Base by himself. 

"...so, can I see the baby?"

Kudu nodded, and showed Liquid to a small hut, ante-barn type thing. Liquid noted the cot.

“Have you been sleeping here?”

“Um… yes. I, I talked to the Boss about it, he said… yeah.”

He gathered up a small baby goat, wrapped up in a blanket, in his arms. It looked at Liquid and made a squeaky _baa_ at him.

“There were two more but…”

“They didn’t make it either?” Liquid guessed.

Kudu gave Liquid a very sad expression - it was much more, Liquid realized, the expression he was used to seeing on his face. “It happens sometimes. Do you want to help me feed her? You just mix the milk powder with warm water.”

“Er… I suppose.”

After Liquid had fixed up a bottle and sheepishly hid it from the guards on his way back to the goats, because no way in hell he was going to be caught with a baby bottle by anyone, he sat down with Kudu in the straw and watched the kid greedily drink.

"How do you know how to do this?" Liquid asked, genuinely curious.

"O-Oh..." Kudu awkwardly wiped some escaped drops of milk from the kid's jaw. "I grew up with goats. My family owned a herd so I always had to take care of them. It's really all I know, I'm not good at other stuff..."

"Well, it's good that you found a place to put your knowledge to good use then..." _Unlike the things you did before this,_ Liquid added silently.

"Ah, back at my village I was engaged to a girl whose family owned even more goats than mine. I wish I could go back and see her again, she was very kind."

"Mh." Liquid let himself be handed the kid and gently placed it into the straw as instructed by Kudu.

"How did you grow up, pi–, ah, Liquid? Do you have a girl you love back home?"

Unable to help himself, Liquid actually barked out a laugh.

“What’s the matter?” Kudu said, alarmed.

“It’s, ahh— well, no, it wasn’t like that. How I grew up… it’s complicated.”

“…I suppose so. I can’t even imagine having a father who runs a mercenary organization.”

“Mantis was there, too… when I was young.”

“Mantis?”

“The- the redhead,” Liquid said, “you haven’t met him?”

Kudu shook his head.

Liquid hesitated for a long moment before saying, “back in the… back there. You used to say that I would call out for him in my sleep.”

Realization slowly spread across Kudu’s face. “ _That_ is Mantez?”

“ _Mantez?_ “

“I-I thought it was a last name! I don’t know what a ‘mantis’ is.”

“It’s a type of bug. فرس النبي,” Liquid said.

“Oh.”

He could help but laugh a little - more sincerely this time, more relaxed. “What was your girl’s name? Back in your home village. You grew up together before you got engaged, right?”

“Fatima…”

“Mantis is to me a lot like Fatima is to you, Kudu.”

Kudu looked at Liquid very blankly for a long, long while, clearly processing that statement. Liquid started to get uncomfortable with the lack of response when the baby goat _baa_ ed again and snapped Kudu out of his reverie.

“Pilot, you’re— you’re,” Kudu stammered, “you’re one of- _those_ people??”

“Excuse me?”

“You know…” he lowered his voice, “someone wh-who… prefers the company of men.”

“So what if I am?” Liquid said, annoyed.

“Then… what happened at the camp…?”

Liquid felt his whole body go cold and narrowed his eyes dangerously. “What _about_ it?”

Kudu cowered, refused to make eye contact. “You didn’t… enjoy it… right?”

“Of fucking course I didn’t!” Liquid yelled, loud enough that Kudu flinched and the kid jumped up in alarm, immediately falling over again.

Kudu gathered the kid in his arms, wincing. “I always thought- I mean, they, the others always told me—“

“Just because I like sex with men doesn’t mean I liked to be _raped_ by them, you fucking nonce. D’you think women enjoy rape too?”

“No! Of course not!”

“What’s the bloody difference?”

“Women are…” Kudu trailed off.

“There are _how_ many women in this Base who could kick your arse?”

“All of them,” he mumbled. “But that’s… it’s different. I don’t know, pilot…”

Liquid huffed. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Right, I’m sor—“

“Shut up. I’m leaving now.” He got up and brushed straw off his pants, fuming. “What in the hell is wrong with you, Kudu?”

“I don’t know. I-I don’t know…”

The baby goat _baa_ ing at him again sounded almost chiding as Liquid slammed the door and stormed off.

* * *

"Did you see that, Wolf? Eagle doesn't react at all when I talk to him! He just ran away!?"

"Mhm,” Wolf hummed as she peeled her uniform off her shoulders a bit more to sunbathe, uncaring of the fact that the top barely covered her chest now.

"Did you even pay attention? He seems almost... _scared_ of me?" Shaking his head in confusion Liquid turned to look at her. "What's with that face? Don't tell me you know something..."

"..."

"Wolf. Please."

She sighed and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the light before opening them. "Maybe it's because he knows you're close with Mantis..."

Liquid eyed her incredulously. "What's he got to do with this? Did he start a fight again? Why am I being avoided by association, me and Eagle got along great before!?"

"Well, I guess the issue here is that he also got along well with Mantis." She winked. "Very well."

Blinking, Liquid's face turned blank.

"What."

Wolf raised her hands in defense. "Hey! Don't shoot the messenger!" She clicked her tongue and closed her eyes again. "It's not like Eagle is the only one. Quoll told me she caught him with Scowling Hare in a storage closet. I didn't believe her at first – shouldn't Mantis be able to tell if someone approaches?" Wolf snorted. "Maybe he wanted to be seen, I would not put it past him."

" _What?_ “

“How did you _not_ know? At the very least Mantis should have told you. I hope you are using condoms with him.” She paused. “Or do you not need them if he is only blowing people and giving handjobs?”

Liquid covered his ears. That was a pretty big _only_. “I can’t believe this…”

“I really thought you knew! Everyone knows. Mantis is one of the biggest whores in Outer Heaven, and probably the reason why it does not go any further is because he’s Ocelot’s pet. He is transparently doing it to make Ocelot jealous… other soldiers are afraid of getting caught in the cross-fire.”

“Gah. What about _me?_ “

“If it makes you feel any better, I think he genuinely likes you,” Wolf said sympathetically. “You aren’t some quick bathroom stall one-night-stand.”

“As a matter of fact, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Then talk to Mantis about it, not me.”

“I don’t think I want to talk to Mantis right now…”

Wolf rolled over performatively. “What is the plan, then? If you get mad at him then I am sure he will just start acting out even more to get _your_ attention as well.”

“Then what am I supposed to do…?”

“Maybe you should start a fight with the men he is fooling around with!”

“I’ve been trying to cut down on the amount of fights I get into.”

“What’s the matter, you do not like punishment details at the Animal Conservation Platform anymore?” Wolf said.

He tried to ignore her but maybe Wolf was right and all he had to do was talk to Mantis about it, not like one look at his thoughts would already lay out the issue anyway.

Mantis wasn’t in his room and Liquid already feared that he might have been with Ocelot when he entered the Intel Platform, thankfully Mantis was lounging at a desk (his desk?) and not looking particularly busy.

“Hey,” Liquid started. “Are you busy? There’s something I want to talk about...”

Mantis eyed him for a second and pushed his chair around his desk, a few documents fell to the floor. “I just finished today’s... interviews, so yes.”

Liquid didn’t really want to know what exactly Mantis was referring to, so the two of them wordlessly made their way up to the top of the Communications Tower and sat down in the shade next to the railing. Letting his feet dangle off the side just like he did as a child made Liquid feel a little more comforted.

“So, you want to ask about my… ah, acquaintances?”

Nodding mutely, Liquid flexed his hands.

“It’s alright if you don’t like it,” Mantis said, voice hollow and detached. “Sorry that I didn’t tell you myself, I didn’t want you to get mad at me.”

Liquid was surprised, he hadn’t expected Mantis to come forward without even having to say anything himself. “I’m not mad,” he breathed. “I suppose I am disappointed.”

Mantis cringed. “That’s _worse!_ ”

“Sorry…”

They didn’t talk for a while, Mantis eventually settled next to Liquid, leaning his head against the railing. “You think that because I sleep around I have no right to be upset about Night Kudu.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s not that I’m jealous of him,” Mantis seemed confident in this but Liquid didn’t entirely believe him. “I just worry about… his past. And you. I don’t want you to get hurt. I promised not to let that happen anymore.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know. I guess that’s what scares me. I can not control what’s going to happen to you, especially if you end up being the one who hurts you.”

Liquid scoffed. “And that’s why you go and fuck random people?”

“No!” Mantis rolled his eyes. “It’s not because of you at all. I want Ocelot to finally pay attention to me again.”

“You really think he’d care about you sleeping with other people? He doesn’t care about us either, Mantis.”

Hiding his masked face in his hands, Mantis looked really small and vulnerable. Liquid didn’t know how to react.

“That’s the thing, though...” Mantis whispered. “I don’t think he cares about me at all.”

Liquid didn’t know what to say, if he told Mantis that he was convinced Ocelot genuinely cared about anyone but himself and Big Boss he would be lying. “Mantis...”

He couldn’t see the tears, but with the way the lenses of Mantis’ mask fogged up he was pretty sure they were there. “I’m so stupid. He thinks I’m nothing but a useless whore and what do I do? Confirm his accusations even further. At least the guys I fuck pretend to like me, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Ocelot doesn’t even try to do _that_.”

“It’s not your fault...”

“Yes it is, Eli! Nobody ever cared for me! Surely there must be something wrong with _me_ and not all the others!” Mantis moved to get up and for a second Liquid was worried he would teleport, he grabbed him by the arm to hold him back. Mantis glared at him. “Let go of me!”

“Mantis, I care for you. You know that.”

“...” Sitting down again, Mantis shook his head. “You’ve got Kudu now. You two have way more in common than we ever had, you don’t even need me anymore.”

“That’s not true. I know you look at my memories of him–“ Mantis turned his head away, presumably in shame of being caught. “You know what I told him about you.”

“…you weren’t serious.”

Liquid laughed in disbelief. “Why would I lie to him about that, of all people!”

Shrugging, Mantis sighed audibly and reached up to undo the straps of his mask, inching closer until he almost sat in Liquid’s lap.

“Mantis–“

It seemed like this was the first time they kissed where there was more to it than just desperation and the relief of being finally reunited. The urge to hold Mantis and envelop him was so strong that Liquid had to pull back for a second to look at his friend‘s face.

“Eli...” Mantis mumbled, still teary-eyed and red faced. “You won’t leave me, right?”

Liquid nodded. “Never again.”

Smiling briefly, Mantis nodded. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you need.”

And before Liquid could move in to kiss him again, he disappeared into thin air, leaving him behindeven more confused than before.


	18. Chapter 18

“So you came back,” Ocelot said, pulling off his gloves. “Having a spat with Mantis?”

“No… maybe a little,” Liquid said. He was once again back in the awkward position of sitting on Ocelot’s bed, staring at his lap, at an indecent hour. “We argued again.”

“About the same thing?”

“Not exactly. …you know he’s been… fooling around, don’t you?”

“I make a point not to acknowledge it,” Ocelot said.

Liquid snorted. “I confronted him about it… he said he just wanted your attention.”

“And that is _why_ I make a point not to acknowledge it. Did you end up storming off and came here to lick your wounds, or…?”

“No,” Liquid shook his head, “we made up, but…”

“What’s the matter, then?”

Liquid chewed on his thumbnail nervously. Why was he talking about this to _Ocelot_ of all people? …maybe because he thought Ocelot would be the only one who could understand where he was coming from. “I think I… I think I’m in love with Mantis.”

Ocelot just laughed and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Why are you telling me this and not him?”

“I tried to! I think I scared him off!”

Ocelot squeezed. “So you came here. Even if you’re in love he still can’t give you what you need, no?”

“N-No…”

To be fair Liquid still didn't really know why he had come here, though he had a sneaking suspicion tucked away at the back of his mind. It was clear that Ocelot couldn't help him with Mantis, the old man was probably unable to feel emotions like a normal person anyway.

But being touched felt nice. A strong assertive grip that raised up memories Liquid had buried a while ago. Somehow he didn't freak out.

And Mantis felt different. This wasn't soft or caring, he wasn't being pitied or treated gently like an invalid. He thought back to how he had felt when he had bitten Mantis on the boat. This was similar.

"Well?" Ocelot drawled.

Liquid reached up and pulled Ocelot down by the neck, kissing him clumsily. He thought he tasted blood when Ocelot bit back - he hadn’t been expecting it, but it didn’t stop him, either.

“Finally,” Ocelot said, pushing Liquid back on the bed roughly. “You’ve done enough teasing.”

“I haven’t—“

“You think it’s fair to keep coming here and then running away before I can have my chance with you? Why, it’s unfair for both of us. I can _help_ you.”

“I know,” Liquid mumbled as Ocelot pulled off his clothes. He felt weird that Ocelot wasn’t getting naked too, and reached up again to pull at his shirt, but Ocelot swatted his hands away.

“Just sit back and relax,” Ocelot said. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“What are you… going to do?”

“Whatever I want. What are you going to do?”

It seemed like a challenge. Liquid gulped. “Sit back and relax?” he said.

“Good boy.”

He still instinctively tried to hide himself when Ocelot pulled off his pants. Ocelot pinned his leg to the bed, fingers gripping so hard it left a mark. Liquid wasn’t hard yet but he could feel his breath getting uneven.

Ocelot climbed up on the bed to kneel over him and undid his fly. Like before, it seemed just getting Liquid in this position was enough to make Ocelot half-hard.

Liquid licked his lips anxiously. “You’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Haven’t you? It’s been a while since you got satisfied like this, huh?”

Ocelot’s smirk made him feel sick, still he wasn’t allowed to look away because his face was gripped tightly when Ocelot grabbed Liquid’s dick roughly and tugged it to full hardness.

“You’ll want to behave. I’m sure you know how painful this can be if you get fussy.“

“B-But, Mantis said–“

Ocelot’s grip tightened. “You really think that I handle Mantis with kid gloves? I don’t care what kind of soft-boiled action you two get up to, I assumed you could handle a little excitement.”

It wasn’t fair, he had to know Liquid couldn’t back down from that. “I can h-handle it!”

“Then why are you shaking? You weren’t made to use your brain, Eli, stop thinking and let instinct take over.”

Liquid did just that, let himself be manhandled and pushed around, trying to dissociate the physical sensations from what was really happening.

“Thats right,” Ocelot praised, albeit with a sarcastic note to his voice, before spitting on his hands and jerking himself a few times before lining up. Liquid didn’t have the energy to be alarmed or demand more preparation, he had sat through worse. “I’ll take care of you.”

It burned and Liquid grit his teeth, struggling against Ocelot’s surprisingly strong hands wrapping around his neck, holding him down effectively.

“Please–“ he rasped. “S-Slow down...”

Ocelot grinned at him and rubbed away a few streaks of sweat from his forehead before pushing in all the way. Liquid yelped and tried to pull his legs up to gain momentum, but found himself effectively trapped under Ocelot’s weight.

“Oh god–“

“It’s easy,” Ocelot whispered against his ear, quickening his pace. “It’s your own fault if you keep thinking about it.”

Snarling at him, Liquid bucked his hips aggressively and tried to claw at Ocelot’s arms.

“I hate you!” he choked, trying to force back the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes.

“Good. That makes it all the better.”

Liquid let out a feral snarl as Ocelot rammed his prostate. He felt dizzy - like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t. Ocelot moving against him like this - it was all too much. Ocelot bit down on his shoulder; distantly Liquid wondered about how many marks would be visible when he was wearing his uniform.

It was never like this with Mantis. It didn’t hurt so much - Mantis didn’t hurt him, he didn’t hurt Mantis. But in a way, it felt… good? It felt _really_ good, strangely… _satisfying_ , to be able to kick and flail and bite and scratch and yowl against Ocelot’s skin. Sure, it didn’t make Ocelot get off him. If anything, it just made him rougher. Fighting back was utterly useless but it felt _good_.

He hated to lose control but for once he just let himself do it and it was so goddamn cathartic that he almost didn’t notice his orgasm and how badly it had left him trembling.

“Fuck— O-Ocelot…”

“Hush.”

Liquid turned his head to the side, biting his lip hard as he waited for Ocelot to finish up. It hurt more like this and he was angry at himself for getting overwhelmed and popping off so soon. Everywhere his skin came into contact with something, whether it was Ocelot or the bed, felt like it was on fire. He felt crampy and disgusting.

“Enough,” he mumbled, trying to squirm away.

“What did I tell you about being a tease?” Ocelot said, and bit his earlobe.

“Ah— please, h-hurry up, old man…”

The thought _Is this really how I wanted it?_ passed through Liquid’s mind as Ocelot finally got it over with. It was unfairly good to be… filled, but… even if he’d had worse, he didn’t really like that it had hurt so much. He _really_ didn’t like that it had made his dick so hard and he’d gotten off on it and all.

“Better now?” Ocelot said when Liquid whimpered as he pulled out.

“I… yes.”

“You can always come back if you need more. I certainly don’t mind.” Ocelot kissed him. Liquid felt very closed in and was sure he was going to panic.

“Yes,” he said again.

He struggled to get up, get dressed — Ocelot was polite enough to at least try to help but Liquid rebuffed him, shivering. He was exhausted and overstimulated. He desperately needed somewhere to hide, somewhere warm and dark where no one could see him. The AC Platform immediately leapt to mind for some reason.

Mantis was sitting in his bed, blanket pulled up over his head, when Liquid stumbled into his room.

Not bothering to speak or even acknowledge his presence at all, Liquid kicked off his shoes and dropped onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to press against his face.

He was stupid. This was horrible and awkward because Mantis just _had_ to know and it had been terrible but also so satisfying. Liquid wanted to disappear on the spot, still he craved comfort, human warmth.

Mantis didn’t move at all.

“Are you… okay?” Liquid muttered at length, peeking out at Mantis silhouette from underneath his pillow.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Mantis breathed. “I’m fine.”

“Bollocks.” He pulled at the blanket to find Mantis curled in on himself, eyes shut tightly. “Listen, I know you can’t see my thoughts from this room so if you were bothered you could’ve just stayed here until–“

“I’m not bothered…”

Liquid felt his face heat up, embarrassment and curiosity overwhelming him.

Mantis opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to decide against it and crawled into Liquid’s lap instead, wrapping his arms around his neck. After a moment passed Liquid hugged him back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unsure if it was directed at Mantis or himself.

“Me too. You need to be more careful...” Sighing against his neck, Mantis drew back slightly. “If you’re going to see Ocelot again maybe next time you should prepare beforehand...”

Liquid blinked. “You’d let me see him again?”

“It’s not like I can stop you...”

Despite himself Liquid kissed Mantis, open mouthed and greedy he let himself go. Mantis pressed closer in turn and Liquid could feel an erection digging into his stomach.

He decided not to ask.

“How do you stand it?” he whispered when they finally pulled apart for air. “The way he talks to you?”

“I’m not seeing him in the hopes of being treated nicely, Eli,” Mantis replied and pressed a soft kiss to one of the red marks Ocelot had left behind.

“Liar.”

Mantis didn’t bite and instead changed his angle. “I don’t need him to be nice to me when I got you. Please don’t trust him too easily, Eli.”

“What do you mean? Usually you’re on his side.”

Sighing, Mantis shook his head against Liquid’s shoulder. “I am. But I also know he likes to act awfully terrible just to get a reaction out of someone. And the things he says– has said… to you. He doesn’t mean it, it’s all for show–”

Liquid scoffed and grabbed Mantis hand, pulling it down to touch the scar on his stomach. “And this? Was this for show too?”

Mantis didn’t answer, he looked defeated and small and Liquid felt like he had lost even more weight lately.

He forced himself to not sound angry when he spoke. “I thought you would understand how I feel, after all I only got this ugly scar – but look at what he did to you...”

They separated wordlessly, stayed on the bed though, still close enough to feel the other’s warmth and movement, but facing away.

* * *

It was nice to have come to an understanding. Nothing really changed, but they had that — understanding. Mantis kept making a show of himself to get Ocelot’s attention; Liquid kept going back to Ocelot, though he now took Mantis’ advice to take some time first to prepare himself so it wouldn’t hurt so much. Liquid sort of hated that he was pushing himself back and forth between good sex that left him unsatisfied and terrible sex that sated him. Mantis was unwilling to leave his comfort zone, however, and Liquid was very hesitant to push. Ocelot was all too pleased to take advantage of the situation…

Liquid found himself catching rides to the AC Platform more frequently. The fact that he felt comfortable around Kudu was in and of itself unsettling, but he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. It took Kudu a lot longer to relax around Liquid. He was genuinely worried that his mere presence would worsen Liquid’s PTSD. Liquid (rather hypocritically) told him he ought to go see Sapphire Cougar himself.

“Eli, do you mind if we have a talk?” Venom said one day as they were both on their way to the AC Platform.

“About that tiff with King Tamarin? I was just defending myself, I had witnesses.”

“No, not about that. I wanted to know how you’re…” he searched for an appropriately tactful term, “getting along with people.”

Liquid blinked. “Which people? The others in my unit, you mean?”

“I mean in your personal life.”

“Oh. Erm… I have some friends, yes.”

“You’re coming to the AC Platform to visit Night Kudu, aren’t you?”

“Yes, he’s one of my friends.”

Venom gave him a blank look. “ _Just_ friends?” he said.

“Wh-what? What do you mean?”

He raised his hand. “Nothing, I’m just wondering. I’ve heard that you and Mantis have hit a rough patch recently.”

“We haven’t… what makes you think that?”

“I’ve also heard that you’ve gotten yourself involved with Ocelot.”

Liquid blanched. “Well— it, it’s complicated.”

“Hm. …I can’t say I approve, but you are an adult and I do want to respect your autonomy.”

“…”

Venom turned and looked out the window of the helicopter. He always had such a permanently disinterested expression that it made Liquid feel insecure, even though he knew that was just how Venom’s face looked. “Mantis has quite a reputation himself. I understand if you like him, but he doesn’t strike me as exactly… ‘boyfriend material’.”

“Mantis is just… it’s his business, not mine. I don’t want to interfere.”

“…what about Wolf? She’s a nice girl.”

“Eh?”

“…I’m glad that you’re getting along with Kudu, too. I am… worried that the two of you may remind each other too much of the past and neither of you would be able to move on… but I can see that for now, you’ve found some comfort in each other.”

“That’s not— it’s not like that! I mean… not really. We’re just…”

“I mean just as friends, Eli. I know some strange emotions can be dredged up between captors and hostages, but from what I’ve talked to him about the POW camp, he was more of a fellow prisoner than anything else.”

“Right. That’s… right.”

“That’s the sort of bond you can’t replicate under ordinary circumstances. Just… don’t use your friendship as an excuse to hang on to the past. You have a good life here now.”

“I know, Father. I do.”

The helicopter landed and Liquid and Venom parted ways - thankfully they weren’t both headed towards the goats. That would be awkward. Though it wasn’t like Liquid was there for the goats themselves…

"Ah, p— Liquid," Kudu said. He smiled when he saw him. "Good morning. What brings you here?"

"I wanted to see that baby goat again... is it doing alright?"

"Were you worried about it?"

"Of course, what do you take me for?"

Kudu seemed to be pleased with that, excited expression spreading across his face as he led Liquid to the goats.

"She is doing so well! I'm letting her share her space with two other kids and their mother now and they get along great! I'm so relieved all the hard work is paying off."

Liquid smiled and watched Kudu pull the kid into his arms, it seemed to be growing bigger every week now.

"You still sleep here though? Didn't you say you weaned her?"

Kudu ducked his head sheepishly. "I like it better than the barracks. It reminds me of... home."

Watching him play with the baby goats made Liquid feel weirdly warm and comforted, still there was work to be done - he had promised Kudu to help with cleaning out the stables and enclosures. The goats were too nosy though so Liquid mostly ended up distracting the animals while Kudu shoveled away dirty straw.

"I never asked, but do they have names?"

"Some of them," Kudu wiped the sweat off his face and unbuttoned his uniform a little. "I am not very... creative though so I just call most of them... well 'goat'," Liquid laughed at that. “Or sweetheart. Or baby."

"You could name one after me," Liquid joked.

Kudu turned red and quickly busied himself with piles of goat dung behind him.

“I don’t know your name,” Kudu said.

“Oh. Right. Well…”

“A-And I think it’d be strange to call a goat ‘Liquid’.”

“Maybe so.”

There was a long pause - at least, unlike the long pauses Liquid tended to have with other people, it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just a lull in conversation. The baby goat attempted to suckle Liquid’s fingers.

“My real name’s Eli, actually,” Liquid said, surprising himself.

"Ali? Like the Prophet's cousin?" Kudu’s face lit up.

"No, no. _Eli_."

“…Jewish?"

Liquid grimaced, he didn't really want to dwell on this. "No. Well, I don't know. Maybe it is. I suppose it could be short for Elijah..."

" _My God is Jehova_..." Kudu mumbled and Liquid looked up, surprised at this display of knowledge. "Jehova is Allah. Do you believe in Him, Eli?"

Liquid shrugged. "I didn't really grow up religious, so there's no personal connection." Kudu seemed disappointed so he hastily continued. "But I read the Quran for what it's worth, I had to study Islam for my training."

The kid rubbed its little nubby head against his shoulder, trying to ease the itch the growing horns must've caused it.

"I think faith is really important,” Kudu said quietly. "Maybe that's why I was so quick to judge you before. But you are a good man, I can tell. The Prophet, peace upon him, teaches tawihd, rahmah, that Allah's mercy encompasses all things."

"...I'm not a good man."

Kudu shook his head. " _Wherever you may be, God will gather you all unto Him_."

"..."

Eventually Kudu finished up cleaning and sat next to Liquid, brushing hay and dirt off the goats faces as they came to greet him and climb into his lap.

"Maybe I'll name her Zaynab. Fatima's daughter..." he joked.

"What is your name?" Liquid blurted out, catching Kudu by surprise. Maybe the boy thought he didn't care, Liquid felt bad for that.

“My- my name’s Gabir,” he said.

“’Comforter’. Maybe your mother knew somehow.”

“…my mother is a wise woman.”

“Do you know your mother, pi- er, Liq— E-Eli…?”

“Just call me whatever you feel most comfortable with.” Kudu nodded. “My mother’s that blonde woman who comes around base sometimes and gets into arguments with Ocelot.”

“Her name is something like— Haawa, was it?”

“EVA. It’s a code name, I don’t know her real name. I’m not sure _she_ knows her real name, to be honest.”

“That’s sad,” Kudu commented. “She seems like a nice woman.”

“…I suppose,” Liquid said dubiously.

“She’s quite pretty.”

“Hm.”

Kudu flushed. “I don’t mean that in a— I just thought…”

“No, it’s alright,” Liquid said, and he had to laugh. “Is there anyone else on Base you think is ‘quite pretty’?”

“…I have seen you with… a girl who seems about my age. She wears hijab…?”

“Wolf. I don’t see you getting anywhere with her, she’s Kurdish.”

“Oh. Um.” Kudu made a face. “My village was in the marshlands in the south… my people were persecuted by Saddam too, I can sympathise with Kurds.”

“Then I can introduce you… if you can muster the confidence for it.”

“…what about you, pilot?” Kudu said, changing the subject very clumsily. “Is there some… someone you… like?”

“Some woman, you mean?”

“I— I thought you pr-preferred…”

“I like both,” Liquid said. “Prefer men, but I can see you’re, er, uncomfortable with that.”

Kudu looked ashamed. “It is not my place but Allah’s to judge.”

"Well, you know how I feel about Mantis."

"Is— Is he good to you? He seems quite detached, I cannot imagine him being, ah—" Kudu turned his head away.

"He's good to me. We argue a lot but we've always done that, I guess in a way I would feel off if we didn’t.”

Kudu seemed interested now. "What do you like about him then? Is he a good cook?"

Liquid snorted and actually laughed loud enough to scare the goats closest to them. "I wish it was that simple! No, there's probably more to it..."

"What is it then? I am curious, because I never—" Kudu went silent.

Liquid found himself surprised by the fact that he actually couldn't give an immediate and clear answer to Kudu's question. He pondered on it for a moment.

“…pilot?"

"Ah, do you know when there is a person that is... unpredictable? But somehow you feel that you know them better than yourself? They confuse you and frustrate you and make you angry and upset but also you want to listen to every word they say?"

Nodding eagerly, Kudu seemed happy to listen.

"He makes me feel safe, even if I'm not. I want to protect him, too, but he doesn't let me. It makes me feel worthless..."

"Don't say that, pilot. Tell me more nice things, it makes you look happy..."

Liquid couldn't bring himself to snap at Kudu for that, despite feeling irritated. How could he be still so... _naïve_ after everything they had been through?

"I— uh, like when I can see his face. He hides it usually, so I feel good when I get to be the only one to see him." He chuckled awkwardly. "He's pretty too, but I guess that doesn't make sense to you..."

Kudu shook his head.

"No, it does! You are pretty like a girl too, pilot,” he said, completely unaware and innocently.

Liquid wanted to punch him.

Instead he felt his face heat up and got into a spectacular coughing fit, sputtering and wheezing, while Kudu patted his back.

“Sorry,” Liquid mumbled. “I don’t usually talk about my feelings. Ever.”

“I think it’s good to do that… at least once in a while.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course!” Kudu said, “everybody feels better after—“

“I mean that I’m… pretty.”

“That— um. Ah, I didn’t mean to refer to you femininely…”

Liquid shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I just, I think you look good… f-for a man. If you were a girl I’d…” Kudu trailed off. “Well, I don’t know.”

“Are you sure you don’t know? It almost sounds like you’ve considered it.” Teasing Kudu was a good mask for how badly Liquid felt he was internally screaming. “ _Have_ you, Gabir?”

“I— I don’t know!” Kudu squeaked. “That’s silly anyway, isn’t it? You’re _not_ a girl and you wouldn’t magically become one. You’re still a _man_ even if you’re… you…” he went red. “Well… it’s like that, anyway…”

“What are you so embarrassed for?”

“Th-this is an awkward subject…”

Kudu certainly wasn't like the people Liquid was used to. Mantis was, despite being pretty demanding in bed, more dominant and liked to initiate. All Liquid had to do was tease him a little. And Ocelot was... well.

It took Liquid a moment to realise that Kudu wasn't going to do anything about this. Hell, Liquid wasn't exactly sure what _this_ entailed himself, but he convinced himself that Kudu must have been aware of it as well.

He moved closer, grabbed Kudu by the shoulder and leaned in.

Kudu's eyes went wide and he looked genuinely... scared? As if Liquid was going to hurt him.

Maybe he had miscalculated somewhere along the line – he decided to clumsily play this off as a hug, wrapping his other arm around the boy and putting his head on his shoulder.

" _Oh_ ,” Kudu breathed, tense enough that Liquid felt he would snap if he held him any tighter.

"I like you too, Gabir,” Liquid heard himself mumble against him. "Thank you for being so nice to me." Those words carried more weight than cleaning goat stables and sitting together late at night to watch the stars.

"A-Allah expects us to be compassionate, I could never disappoint Him—"

"Do you think He would be disappointed in you for liking me?" Liquid asked and it was a honest question, not some theological teasing to test the waters. He genuinely wanted to know how Kudu felt, wanted to be respectful and not take as he pleased despite the burning urge inside his chest.

Kudu took his time to think about that long and hard, Liquid started feeling stiff and clammy in their embrace, yet the boy didn't draw back. Finally he raised his own arms then, tentatively, a gentle but a firm pressure around Liquid's waist.

"I... don't think He would ever disprove of rahmah. If He did He wouldn't have allowed for us to survive and meet again..." Kudu eventually pulled back far enough to look Liquid in the eyes, his own dark eyelashes hiding away his sheepish expression. "Especially you. He must love you very much, pilot. And how could He not?"

It took all of Liquid's willpower not to tackle Kudu right there and then.

All of this was unfamiliar, he wasn't used to so much genuine... _love?_ Was that it? There definitely was an overwhelmingly affectionate quality to Kudu's words and expressions. Maybe he was off, they shared a few interests, spent some time together. And some more time in a place Liquid didn't want to think about right now.

Yet when he looked at Kudu's expectant face it all came flooding back, but it was somehow alright. Familiar and established, he knew he would feel safe with this man, in a way that nobody else, not even Mantis could provide for him.

Who knew, perhaps he was just going nuts in the end. That certainly didn't matter when he leaned in to softly touch his lips to Kudu's, who quickly drew back, mortified at how he had let the situation escalate.

"Sorry..." Liquid sighed. "I understand if you don't want to see me again."

“No— it’s not that…”

“I went too far just now.”

“…m-maybe a little. This is… sudden…”

Liquid stepped back, headed for the exit. “I’ll see you later, then,” he said as he closed the gate behind him.

“…okay.”


	19. Chapter 19

Kudu needed time, sure, but Liquid got itchy and impatient in a matter of days. He had to see him again. If for no other reason than to make sure he didn’t hate him now. Not that he was going to lie to himself about his _other_ intentions, too — he did want to see if Kudu could give him what Mantis and Ocelot couldn’t, if he could be someone that took charge and fucked him but was still gentle and sweet and vanilla.

But that was secondary. Liquid would, in all honesty, settle for a purely platonic friendship if Kudu was still uncomfortable with the whole… attraction thing, or if the attraction wasn’t mutual and Kudu had just been giving him confused compliments, or…

Liquid shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he got off the helicopter. Not many people came to the AC Platform at this time of night. Besides Liquid and Kudu, the only human occupant was probably just a token guard or two. They wouldn’t bother them.

The goats were all asleep as Liquid approached the hut. He hesitated in front of the door, wondering if he should knock and wake them all up, or just go right in. Thankfully Zaynab made the decision for him.

“Baaa!!”

There was some grumbling and movement on the other side of the door, so Liquid presumed Kudu was awake and went ahead and opened it. “Gabir?”

“! …a-ah, pilot! What are you…?”

“I wanted to… to see you,” Liquid said lamely. “I’ve been too busy during the day, though.” It was a bit of lie, he had been busy but it wasn’t like he couldn’t have made time if he wanted to. He just wanted to be here at night because it was guaranteed privacy. “Can we talk?”

“Um, sure.”

“…somewhere else? It’s dark in here, I want to see your face.”

“Oh, uh- yes, we can go to the labs, they have proper lights. They’re near here…”

Kudu showed him to some tucked away rooms off the side of the enclosure; he had called them labs but to Liquid they seemed more like the kitchens, all industrial stainless steel. It was obviously where food was prepared for animals whose diet was more complicated than hay and dry feed. About half of the room, or perhaps more, was taken up by glass terrariums with heat lamps. Kudu only turned on one set of lights but it was enough for Liquid to see, upon closer inspection, that the tanks contained various small reptiles.

“Have you been in here before, pilot?” Kudu said, coming to stand next to Liquid.

“I haven’t. I didn’t know there were lizards here.”

“Where else would they put them? So, umm, what did you want to talk about…?”

Liquid sighed, stood up, and turned back to Kudu. “What do you think I wanted to talk about?”

Kudu looked at his feet. “You took my first kiss, pilot.”

“I thought it was normal in Iraq for men to kiss each other.”

“Not like _that!_ That wasn’t… f-friendly.”

“Well— most people don’t really think that sort of thing is a big deal, anyway.”

“I do… I always waited… don’t you remember the first time you kissed someone, pilot?”

“Not really, but I think I was on painkillers at the time.”

Kudu gave Liquid a rather frustrated, flustered look. “You didn’t come here to just talk about the… the kissing, though…?”

“Well, I am actually, in a manner of speaking…”

That was about as smooth as Liquid could get before he grabbed Kudu around the shoulders and kissed him again. He really was not trying to be forceful. Kudu went stiff in his arms and didn’t really kiss back, but didn’t pull away either.

Liquid drew back, just a bit. “This is— this is weird, I know.”

“Y-Yeah,” Kudu gulped.

“I shouldn’t have feelings for you…”

“Pilot…”

He felt a warm, reassuring squeeze of Kudu’s hand at his elbow.

“I-I never wanted to hurt you, pilot…”

“I know.”

He kissed him again and Kudu did not get any more relaxed. But it wasn’t like Liquid was expecting him to _not_ be nervous. This was a lot to take in and Liquid always felt it was better to jump in headfirst and get things over with quickly.

“P-Pilot!” Kudu gasped when Liquid pulled him closer, too close. “What are you—?”

“I want you,” Liquid mumbled, hiding his head against Kudu’s shoulder. It wasn’t particularly graceful, he was much taller than Kudu. “I… really want you.”

Kudu audibly gulped. “Want me…? to what?”

“Don’t be thick…”

Liquid pushed him back against the shelf, kissing him yet again. There was a slight amount of startled resistance - a gasp, a tightened grip - but Kudu didn’t protest, just let Liquid do what he wanted. He even squirmed in response when Liquid rubbed up on him.

“Wait—“ he gasped, turning his face away, as Liquid started pushing up his sleepshirt. “Wait— we can’t…”

“What’s the matter?” Liquid mumbled.

“W-We shouldn’t… it’s not right…”

“Does it- feel bad?” Liquid asked, suddenly anxious. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No-! Ah, that’s not—“ Kudu blinked rapidly. “W-We can’t do this in front of the leopard geckoes. Th-they shouldn’t watch such a thing.”

“Leopard geckos?” Liquid said, then laughed. “Aw, they’ll be alright. This is natural even for lizards.”

“I-Is it?”

“Of course it is, even male lizards with other male lizards.”

“Oh, I didn’t… I didn’t kn-know that,” Kudu mumbled. Liquid was surprised at the amount of muscle he’d been hiding under his uniform, though he supposed it was only natural for someone whose job consisted of so much wrangling goats. Kudu had a layer of fat over his stomach that made his body look oddly adolescent.

“…I like you,” Liquid said. He kissed Kudu’s neck.

“A-Ah… pilot…”

“It’s alright,” he assured him.

His eyes went wide as he palmed the front of Kudu’s crotch. Kudu’s expression when from anxious to downright fearful.

“Wha- what’s the matter?” he stammered.

“You’re huge! You would’ve killed me with this thing back at the camp!”

“Wh-what?!”

“No one’s ever told you??” Liquid shoved his hands down Kudu’s pants to make sure it wasn’t just a trick of awkwardly bundled fabric. Kudu made a very undignified squawk, his whole body jerking at the sudden touch. “I know you’ve seen mine before - it never occured to you that you were maybe a _bit_ larger than average!?”

Kudu looked mortally embarrassed. “I-I’d heard that westerners were… were ‘small’…”

“Tch. It’s a good thing I know how to do it now without it hurting.”

“Oh— there’s a way?” He was genuinely surprised. “I thought… that sort of thing… would always hurt.”

“Of course, I’m sure here in the labs we could even find something to use for lube. It’s easy. It’s much better when you _want_ it.”

“…and y-you’re sure you want it, pilot?”

“‘Course I am,” Liquid said, squeezing him, then kissing him again. “…do… do you?”

“…”

“I don’t want to be… pushy, Gabir.”

“You’re not… maybe a little,” Kudu mumbled.

“I want you to fuck me. Do you want to fuck me?”

“I-I don’t want to hear that kind of language!”

“Just answer me!” Liquid said, losing his temper.

Kudu looked to be on the verge of tears. “Th, this is wrong!” he cried out, “it’s a sin, pilot, we can’t do this!”

“You don’t want this?!”

“No! I don’t… I don’t wanna do this… I’m sorry.”

Liquid stepped back, frustrated. “Is it something to do with me? Am I not good enough for you? Are you scared because I’m a man, or because I’m damaged goods!”

“N-Nothing like that! It’s not you, pilot. It’s not because of you.”

“Then what’s the matter??”

“We’re not… we’re not married,” Kudu said meekly.

“…that’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Just, please… I’m s-sorry, pilot. I know I have no right to say ‘no’ to you, but—“

“This- this isn’t about that!”

“If you want to- to be _close_ , that’s f-fine, pilot,” Kudu said - desperation, a plea to understand in his voice — “but I d-don’t want to do anything with you that I wouldn’t d-do with a girl I wasn’t married to… d-does that make sense?”

“You don’t want me.”

“Th-that’s not it at all…” He fixed his shirt and pants, hands trembling. “You don’t understand. You’re acting strange, pilot. I-I don’t think you’re okay right now, it wouldn’t be right anyway.”

“What are you talking about? I feel fine!”

“You’re _crying!_ “

Liquid put his hands to his cheeks. Oh. He hadn’t realized that at all.

“I don’t think you’re well,” Kudu said, approaching Liquid again and taking him by the arm. “You should go back to your barracks and get some rest.”

“I— I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I… I like you too, pilot. You can come see me again when you… when you feel better.”

“Nnn.”

Kudu dared to kiss him. It was a very brief and chaste kiss but it somehow served to calm Liquid down, just a little bit, and relieve the sting of rejection.

“Alright,” Liquid said morosely.

“I can walk you back to the helipad if you want…”

“I… think I wanna be alone right now.”

Kudu nodded. “You’ll be alright?”

“I just want to… go now.” This was a disaster.

“Okay. Good night, pilot, please get some good sleep…”

* * *

The barracks were stuffy but silent for a change - it was late enough that most of the soldiers were sleeping, but too early for the first ones to get up for their morning shift.

Liquid laid awake - still conflicted and restless but too exhausted to do anything about it. He had briefly considered sleeping in Mantis' quarters but knowing his friend he probably should avoid seeing him for a while. Liquid was convinced his thoughts and memories had already been combed through meticulously and so he wasn't sure when the right time to come out of hiding again would be.

Mantis, however, took that decision away from him by simply appearing next to Liquid, hidden away under his blanket.

He flinched and almost kicked Mantis out of his top bunk in surprise, but Mantis just frowned at him accusingly.

 _What? I let you sleep in my bed so you might as well return the favour,_ Mantis thought.

 _This is a bunk bed!_ Liquid glared at him. _You better leave before you wake up the others!_

_You didn't bother keeping quiet when you returned from your little nightly excursion earlier, though._

_That's none of your business! If you're here to complain about Kudu you can fuck right off, I don't want to hear it._

Below them Cranky Maggot stirred and yawned audibly - instinctively Liquid drew Mantis closer and pressed him against his chest to hide him with his own silhouette.

Mantis' breath was warm against his neck and he noticed a wandering hand against his back.

 _No,_ Liquid thought adamantly. _We are NOT doing this. If you wan't to talk, fine, but first you're going to have to—_

They gracelessly crashed onto concrete, the top of the Communications Tower gently illuminated by moonlight.

"How could you do this to me!?" Mantis screeched immediately and clawed at Liquid's chest, still straddling his hips. "You said you wouldn't leave me!!"

"I'm not!" Liquid raised his hands defensively and tried to push Mantis off without hurting him. "But I'm going to reconsider if you keep acting like this!"

"You tried to fuck Kudu!"

"And you _did_ fuck Eagle and Hare and Caribou and—"

"I get it!" Mantis spat. "But at least I'm not stupid enough to try to have sex with the person who abused me for four years!"

Liquid scoffed. "Are you sure about that?"

Mantis slapped him hard across the face and immediately recoiled, hissing in pain as he clutched his hand. "You don't understand Ocelot and me and at this point I doubt you ever will!"

He seemed desperate and Liquid could tell he was pushing too far, he should be deescalating and not be feeding into Mantis paranoia even more, but it just wasn't fair. Why did he always have to be the bigger person?

"So, whats the difference if I sleep with Ocelot or Kudu?"

"Ocelot didn't— he had to—"

Liquid growled and tackled him to the ground, Mantis' skinny body cracking dangerously under his weight.

"If I don't get to tell you how to deal with your trauma you don't get to judge me either! How can you be so dense and still think I would just abandon you!"

"...because you did it before,” Mantis whispered thickly, tears welling up in his angry eyes.

"Don't you think I learned from my mistakes?!" Liquid snarled at him.

To that Mantis didn't reply, and knowing that it was wrong to feel satisfied at his supposed defeat Liquid shook his head, trying to get a grip.

"I really like Kudu. I feel connected and attracted to him and he is a wonderful person. I don't care if you can't deal with that, you certainly never bothered with whether or not I could handle you sleeping with the man who raped me."

Mantis eyes went wide. "Eli—"

"I l-love you, Mantis,” Liquid stammered. "And I know _you_ know that, so I couldn't understand why you have to act like this all the time..."

"..." Mantis looked away.

"It doesn't matter, I think I do understand now. I'd like to help you, more than anything, but for that you would have to get off your high horse and try to accept the fact that you need help first..." Liquid mumbled and scrambled to get up. "I'm going back to bed now. I don't care what you do, just... leave me alone for a while. I need some time to think. Stop worrying about me so much and take care of yourself instead, please."

Mantis sat up, rubbing his arms, and watched as Liquid made to leave.

The first solution that sprung to mind was to go see Ocelot. Sure, it seemed stupid after Liquid had called him out about it like that, but Mantis was convinced it was the only thing that would make him feel better.

Ocelot wasn’t in his quarters.

Mantis stared at the empty room for a while, slowly closing the door behind him. Maybe it was irrational- but this felt like spit in the face after Liquid had already roughed him up. He hated Liquid’s stupid insistence that Ocelot didn’t actually care about him and he hated that maybe he was _right_. Maybe Ocelot _didn’t_ care about him and maybe Mantis fucking him was no different from Liquid wanting to fuck Kudu. _Had_ it just been abuse all this time?

Mantis tore his mask off, crying. Without Ocelot’s silent mind to lean into he was instantly overwhelmed, but it felt good to let something else overtake him. With everybody else’s thoughts pushed into his head he didn’t have to listen to his own. He laid down on Ocelot’s bed and buried his face in the pillow.

It was all so _tiring_.

He waited around for a while in the hopes that Ocelot would show up and fuck him into next week so he could get his mind off things, that didn't happen though and the pain threatening to split his head only got worse the longer Mantis kept off his mask.

Eventually he gave up and sluggishly got up, ready to go find solace somewhere, with someone else, even if it wouldn't change the fact that Eli claimed to love him yet chose some stinking goatherd over him.

When he picked up his mask his gaze fell onto Ocelot's wardrobe that the man usually procured curious items from to... spice things up a little.

He let the mask fall to the floor again, uncaring if it broke, and padded over to undo the lock with a pull of his finger.

There wasn't much inside; a few coats and boots and that _awful_ hat Mantis had been trying to forget about for a while. At the bottom lay Ocelot's special case which Mantis pulled out promptly, flinging it open with his powers hard enough to catapult the lock across the room.

He was familiar with most of the items inside, had made acquaintance with them through one way or another be it during an interrogation or... more personal happenings. Still he was unsatisfied because if this wasn't where the old man stashed his fun stuff, where else could it be?

Mantis closed his eyes and tried to feel around for anything else, smiling to himself when he found a little hatch at the bottom of the wardrobe. He flicked it open and was greeted by the sight of snowy white and pill bottles in many sizes and colors. How typical of Ocelot to hide them in such a childish way when the chance of someone coming in to steal them was abysmal.

Well, at least as long Mantis wasn't around.

Tentatively he pulled open one of the little baggies and snorted the powdery residue off his fingers, instantly greeted by a nice faint buzz that spurred him on to lay out a full line on Ocelot's case.

"Fuck—" He coughed and rubbed his nose, it _burned_ like hell and was more unpleasant than he had expected, but the instant gratification of a buzzing warmth spreading through him made up for that.

Mantis got up and stumbled towards the shelf Ocelot kept his liquor on - all of the bottles looking pristine and untouched and Mantis giggled at the thought of the old man regularly dusting all of his expensive collection.

He picked out the nicest looking vodka and popped off the cap, taking a few swigs before licking up more of the chalky powder. Maybe being alone in Ocelot's room wasn't so bad after all. And maybe Ocelot would get mad enough to punish him if took all of his shit and opened all of the expensive liquor.

The more he drank he further away he felt from everyone else’s thoughts - the more comfortable he got. It allowed him to be far away from his _own_ thoughts as well. Chasing that relief, Mantis went back to Ocelot’s hidey-hole and took out the pill bottles. With blurred vision he closely inspected them. Some of them weren’t labelled and the ones that were had very scientific-sounding names that meant nothing to Mantis.

He knew how furious Ocelot would be in he just started taking handfuls of random pills - so, that was exactly what he did, washing them down with another swig off vodka, finishing off the bottle. Letting the remaining bottles fall to the floor, Mantis settled back against Ocelot’s bed, feeling hot and cold all at the same time.

His nose was bleeding.

He ran his hands over himself, marvelling at the weird sensations on his skin. He was so out of it it felt like someone else was touching him. For no special reason, he put his hands down his pants. He had no way of knowing at which point he’d gotten hard.

Mantis giggled softly to himself. Ocelot would be _so_ mad.

His thoughts drifted to Liquid and Kudu and he grunted in displeasure. That damn Kudu… Mantis should have killed him himself before Liquid had even known he was back. Was it true, what Liquid had observed about Kudu’s disproportionately large cock? Mantis felt sure that Kudu’s devotion to Allah was just a front and he was lying in wait to make Liquid his bitch. Mantis could see all his thoughts and he was still convinced of that.

Obviously he had to win Liquid back. _I’m going to fuck Eli,_ Mantis thought. _I’m going to put my dick in him._

He passed out.


	20. Chapter 20

Mantis woke up to the very unpleasant sensation of his stomach being pulled out his throat, as he forcibly vomited into a plastic bucket placed in front of him.

“Good morning, dumbass,” Ocelot said. He looked tired.

“Wh—“

He threw up again, Ocelot's fingers digging into his neck as he held Mantis' hair back.

"Good boy, you might as well get it all out now - I'd prefer to not drag you to Medical."

"Oh god, please don't—" he dry-heaved, sweat pearling down his red face until he finally managed to get most of it out.

"Yeah, you wouldn't be the only one getting in trouble because of that. I'd prefer to keep this between us."

"Please..." Mantis croaked.

Ocelot kneeled down and wiped his face with a wet rag. "You look like shit. For someone who burned off most his nose you sure got a whole lot of coke in there."

Sighing and closing his eyes, Mantis leaned into Ocelot's touch. He did feel like shit.

“Is there a particular reason you decided to waste my stash, or did you OD just to make my life more difficult?”

“I’m… sorry,” Mantis mumbled.

He flapped a blanket around Mantis’ shoulders and picked him up. “You always expect me to clean up your messes. Was this a deliberate suicide attempt?”

“…”

“Bogomol.”

Mantis shook his head.

Ocelot dumped him on the bed and started searching through his kit. “A cry for attention, then?”

“Eli… he…”

"Did he finally break it off with you?"

Mantis opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was undignified bawling. Ocelot grabbed his face and moved in close, forcing eye contact.

"You need to hold still, or else you're going to fuck yourself up even further."

" _I don't wanna loooose him—_ " Mantis cried and watched through tears as Ocelot gently tightened a band around his arm, stroking the green vein until it popped out enough to insert an IV port. "P-Please don't tell him I did this..."

"Shh, I'm gonna get some saline into you - you're very dehydrated."

Mantis just kept crying quietly as he waited for Ocelot to finish, then when his arm was up and bandaged he sighed in relief as he felt a cool wave wash over him.

"How are you still such a child, Bogomol? I thought you'd finally grown up."

It stung because it reminded him of what Eli had said in his rage, of the implications of it.

But Mantis couldn't help it and wordlessly let himself fall against Ocelot's chest, burying his face in the familiar smell.

"Just what am I going to do with you...?" Ocelot mused and patted his back. "You can't keep going like this, you know that."

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You could start by being less reckless.”

“But that’s not the problem…”

“It’s certainly the problem from where I’m standing,” Ocelot said. “You could have _died_ , you understand that, don’t you?”

“I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to…”

“It’s just common sense. You don’t even know what kind of drugs you were mixing.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Mantis said, pulling the blanket up to his eyes.

"So what? You're just gonna gnaw on it until they find you face down in the ocean?"

"It's not like you care..." Mantis said bitterly and turned away.

"...it certainly would be inconvenient if you were gone. I'll have to admit that I've gotten quite used to your presence,” Ocelot said nonchalantly and watched carefully as Mantis eyes widened. "Also who would help me with the interrogations? And keep my bed warm? Certainly not Liquid, he's quite the brute and lacks fine motor skills. Also he never stays around long enough to hog my blanket."

Mantis couldn't help but let a tearful laugh bubble up. He sniffed. "Why do I still feel awful though?"

"Its most likely the drugs. Also I always told you, I'm not good for you, Bogomol. But yeah, the drugs." Ocelot leaned back and ruffled his hair.

"You won't leave me, right, Ocelot?" he asked and grabbed Ocelot's wrist.

"If you manage to behave I'll likely keep you around, yeah."

"..."

"That means no sex with random soldiers, too. You need to behave yourself. I'm sure Eli will like that too."

Mantis felt like dangling Eli in front of his nose was an unfair move, especially because he was kind of trying to forget about him altogether but it was effective and he nodded his head meekly.

"Ah, put your head back, you're bleeding again. You already ruined my sheets–" Ocelot shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Not my clothes too."

Mantis dutifully held the rag to his face to stop the bloodflow, watching exhaustedly as Ocelot moved around to clean up his mess

Maybe he was enjoying this a little too much, still in pain and exhausted by all the stress.

“Feeling a bit calmer now, are you?” Ocelot said. He kept a condescending tone but Mantis was sure he detected concern and affection in his voice.

“Uh-huh.”

Ocelot sat down on the bed next to him - and lifted his arm just enough for Mantis to wriggle under it.

“You should get some proper sleep now. Your head will be much clearer when you wake up.”

“I hope so.”

“Then you can talk with Liquid and get all this sorted out.”

“I want to… stay with you,” Mantis murmured, pressing his face against Ocelot’s side.

Ocelot chuckled. “I suppose that’s fine too.”

* * *

“How’s Zaynab?”

“She is getting so big,” Kudu said cheerfully, and embraced Liquid. “I’m proud of her.”

“You should be proud of yourself, you put a lot of effort into her,” Liquid joked.

“I only helped. It’s the patient that does all the work.”

“Have you ever thought about becoming a proper veterinarian? I’m sure you could get training for it here.”

Kudu smiled shyly. “I am perfectly fine just taking care of them like this.”

Liquid had to laugh — “You’re cute,” he said, and gave Kudu a quick peck.

“Pilot! D-Don’t say that kind of thing, it’s…”

“Embarrassing?”

“Well, yes!”

“Hahaha. Why don’t you take a break and come sit with me…?”

Mantis, meanwhile, was watching the whole exchange through Liquid’s mind, seething and heartbroken.

It wasn't fair. It was _his_ job to make Liquid laugh and smile and to get praised and be called cute.

Jealously Mantis watched them for a while, frantically digging through Liquid's mind to see if they had already...

They hadn't. Liquid seemed to want it but for some reason he had decided to hold back and pretend to be a innocent little virgin. And Mantis wouldn't let it happen, if anyone was allowed to make Liquid finally feel good it was him. Not Kudu, not some random soldier, not even Ocelot.

"Ugh," Liquid groaned. "My head hurts."

Mantis immediately drew back from the deeper parts of his mind, anxious that Liquid had noticed the interference.

"Maybe you should get some rest, pilot,” Kudu said and pulled back a strand of Liquid's hair, which had finally grown out to nicer length. "You've been on many assignments lately."

"Yeah... I suppose you're right." Liquid hugged Kudu quickly. "Can I come see you tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Kudu smiled and waved as Liquid left to go lie down in the barracks.

Mantis let him go, instead focusing on Kudu whose mind was full of affection for Liquid. The hidden repressed feelings would have been funny in any other situation but it only infuriated Mantis to know that the filthy bastard secretly lusted after _his_ Eli.

Unable to control his anger he snapped himself to the animal platform, scaring Kudu half to death by hovering a few feet above to make himself look more imposing.

Behind them goats started _baa_ ing anxiously.

“H-Hi, Mantis,” Kudu greeted, visibly nervous but trying to be polite.

“Getting along well with _my_ Eli, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes. We are friends.”

“You want to fuck him,” Mantis said.

Kudu looked mortified. “It’s not like th-that!”

“What is it like, then?”

“I, I don’t know. But not _that!_ “

Mantis loomed close to Kudu’s face, as intimidating as possible, not allowing Kudu to step back. “It _is_ like that. You’re just bitter you couldn’t get to him first and now you’re having him put on this ridiculous pantomime so you can pretend he isn’t _damaged goods_.”

“What are y-you talking about?…”

“ _You know._ You want him for yourself, but you want him to offer himself to you — and then when that finally happened, you had the gall to turn him down because he was tainted!"

“B-But that’s not how I—“

"I don't _care_ for your self-absorbed defenses! I see what you are doing! Just because you managed to convince Eli and the Boss of your little sob-story doesn't mean everyone will believe it!" He decided that verbal intimidation wasn't really enough and started pushing gruesome imagery of potential punishments into Kudu's head that were partly derived from what he had seen in Room 101.

"Please—" Kudu sobbed, but Mantis didn't give in.

"You will keep away from him or I will make sure everyone on base will learn about the things you let happen to Outer Heaven's beloved son." Mantis smirked behind his mask and let out a sharp laugh when Kudu, struck by mortal fear, lost control of his bladder. "I'm sure the soldiers here will find even more creative ways than me to punish someone who hides crimes as despicable as you do!"

"I-I'm sorry—"

" _No!_ You don't get to be sorry!" Mantis snarled. "If you have truly convinced yourself that you care for Eli then you will follow my advice and keep away from him - no talking, no greetings, don't even look at him if you want to continue your pitiful existence! Do you understand?"

"Yes—! I-I promise!"

"Good boy." Mantis patted Kudu's tearstained cheek and watched the boy recoil in terror. Maybe he was having too much fun with this – but it just was so satisfying to finally let out his frustrations on someone who truly deserved it. "Tell me how disgusting you think he is, I want to hear you admit it."

"W-What...?"

Mantis narrowed his eyes and let a burst of psychic flames run over Kudu's extremities - when the boy tried to scream he clicked his tongue to shut him up.

"Will I have to repeat myself?"

Kudu shook his head, hugging his chest anxiously. "E-Eli...— the pilot is d-disgusting," Another sob. "He's been ruined b-by my comrades already but I cannot wait to fuck him like the... the w-whore he is...."

Satisfied, Mantis drew back, unsure if Kudu's words had been his own or merely projection, but uncaring to find out.

* * *

Liquid really didn’t have any idea that anything was wrong until the next afternoon, when he stopped by the AC Platform to see Kudu again. Except, Kudu wasn’t there. But he was on the schedule? Liquid checked with another Animal Conservation worker who said that Kudu had been there up until Liquid arrived…

He was hiding, apparently. Of course it confused Liquid. He thought that maybe it was some childish game or prank but that was not like Kudu at all. Of course, it wasn’t hard for Liquid to track him down - but when Liquid caught his eye and waved, Kudu ran off again before Liquid could approach.

While it was undoubtedly not meant to be a game, Liquid was not one to turn down pursuit. He obviously was not wanted - perhaps Kudu was busy, or something had happened with the goats and he needed space right now — but Liquid was really unable to _stop_ himself from chasing him down and catching him.

As expected, Kudu started crying when Liquid had him cornered. “What happened?” Liquid said, trying to sound friendly and gentle and not as excited from the chase as he was.

Kudu tried to duck away but Liquid eagerly pounced on him to pin him against the wall.

"What did I do?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

Trying to avoid eye contact Kudu grimaced and shook his head. "Please..." he whispered.

"Please what?"

"Leave me alone,” Kudu mumbled, tears of frustration in the corners of his eyes. "I don't want to see you anymore, pilot."

Liquid just stared at him, mouth ajar in disbelief.

" _Please_..." Kudu said again, looking at him pleadingly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Feeling his voice shake with hurt Liquid gripped Kudu's shoulders tighter. "What did I do wrong? Was this all just a big joke to you?!"

The kid looked terrified and Liquid had to take a deep breath and pull back, he needed to get ahold of himself. This had to be abig misunderstanding. Kudu wouldn't...

"You... disgust me."

Kudu probably looked more shocked than Liquid himself as he uttered those words, voice oddly mechanic, pronunciation slightly off.

Liquid let him run off then, utterly devastated and confused, unable to psych himself up into a rage with panic rising in his throat.

He returned to the Combat Platform, vaguely planning to hide in his bunk but ending up just tucking himself away in an isolated under-platform corner, sulking. He knew something was very off about the situation but he was frankly afraid to think about it too deeply.

“Poor Eli,” he heard Mantis’ voice suddenly beside him. “I saw what happened.”

Liquid rested his forehead on his knees. “Go away, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I warned you about Kudu.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” he snapped.

Mantis placidly put an arm around his shoulders and leaned on him. “It’s okay, Eli,” he said. “You still have me.”

“I said go away! I want to be alone right now— h-how could Gabir _say_ that about me??”

“He revealed his true feelings…”

Liquid pushed Mantis away. "No, it's... he wouldn't say that. It didn't sound like him,” he mumbled accusingly.

Mantis looked offended. "What are you implying?"

"You're such a jealous bitch, Mantis. First you sleep with half the base because you can't handle the fact that Ocelot has more important things to worryabout than keeping you happy and now you sabotage _my_ relationships...?"

"You can hardly call that a relationship."

Liquid glared at him. "If that's what you think then I guess this," he gestured between them, "isn't a relationship either."

Uncertain, Mantis tried to move closer again but Liquid jumped up and started walking away, pace quick.

"Eli— I didn't mean—"

"I don't care!" Liquid yelled, his voice breaking, anger instantly replaced by sorrow and disappointment. "Just, whatever you did to him— undo it—"

"I didn't do anything to him I just... took control..."

Liquid looked at him in disbelief. "You're sick."

Unable to hold back his laugh Mantis grabbed his arm. "You just noticed that?!"

"Leave me alone. And leave Gabir alone too, I don't care if you try to hurt me but don't you dare lay a hand on him. He's got nothing to do with this."

"But Eli—"

Liquid finally managed to shake him off. "I don't want to see you anymore. Go back to Ocelot, fuck who you like — see if I care!”

With that he was gone.

"But I only tried to protect you..." Mantis mumbled to himself, voice quiet as he realised how majorly he had messed up this time.

Ocelot. He would go to Ocelot. Ocelot always cleaned up his messes.

Unfortunately, he looked about as fed up with Mantis’ antics as Liquid had been when Mantis explained the situation to him.

“I don’t know what you were expecting,” Ocelot said.

“Kudu was literally a guard at a camp where Eli was gang-raped repeatedly! It’s not like he didn’t know, he _watched_ , he _saw it!_ How is everyone just _okay_ with Eli and that Kudu bastard being together?!”

“I _actually raped_ him and you sure don’t have a problem with him literally sleeping with me.”

“But that’s different! You did it to save him!”

“And Kudu was the one who kept him alive until I got there. Face it, Bogomol — Kudu is not a threat. You’re just, like Liquid said, a jealous little bitch.”

“No! That’s not—“

“ _You’re_ the one who feels threatened by Kudu.”

“I’m not jealous!” Mantis yelled petulantly, “if I was, why would I let him fuck you?!”

“Because there’s no chance of him developing an actual emotional connection to me?” Ocelot said, rolling his eyes. “Meanwhile, Kudu beats you out in every category. He’s nice, he’s considerate, Liquid’s father likes him, he’s _stable_ …”

"Next you're gonna tell me he's better because he has a big dick!"

"He does?" Ocelot twirled his moustache. "Interesting."

Mantis growled in frustration and lost control, Ocelot's office became a mess in mere seconds - documents and furniture flying everywhere in the little psychic storm.

"If he's so much better than me why don't you go swap me out for him too! I know you don't care for me but I thought that you'd at least be thankful for all I've given you!"

Laughing, Ocelot started collecting the stray documents and picked up his chair. "What have you given me? Your virginity? Bogomol please, with how you whore yourself out that really can't be considered anything special."

Crying and furious Mantis threw Ocelot to the floor, though the old man caught himself surprisingly well and simply frowned at his antics. "Eli was right! You took it from me, you only ever used me as a convenient replacement!"

"And it took you this long to understand that? I made myself clear from the beginning, yet you always denied it. You cannot fault anyone but yourself at this point, Bogomol."

"D-Don't call me that..."

"If you insist." Ocelot got up and sat back at his desk, he seemed like he finally had enough and Mantis felt tense. "But listen to me, Mantis. I'm telling you this not as whatever role you designated me for in your head, but as Outer Heaven's commander - you will cease your harassment of Night Kudu. Unlike you he actually shows up for his shifts and works carefully and is dependable, I will not tolerate you ruining morale on base because of your childish feelings."

"..."

"Have I made myself clear?"

Reluctantly, Mantis exhaled and nodded. "Yes, Ocelot...."

"Good. Next time you have any... concerns about our soldiers or the way Mother Base handles them you should go see the Boss right away. I'm not HR nor your babysitter, and I'm sure he'd prefer to hear it directly if his son is in... grave danger, as you put it."

"Yes, Ocelot,” Mantis said again through gritted teeth and let himself be kicked out.

Just what was he doing? It took all his self control not to immediately set something on fire or ruin the rest of the intel platform like he had done with Ocelot's office.


	21. Chapter 21

“What is the matter?” Wolf said, “normally you have fun with this sort of thing, Liquid.”

They were out on assignment in some dusty nowhere, and the action was coming painfully slow. Somehow Liquid got stuck waiting with Wolf and her bitchy fellow sniper, Quoll. He was not sure how he always managed to get stuck with them.

“It’s nothing,” Liquid said, keeping his binoculars fixed on the horizon.

“It’s about Mantis, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to talk about Mantis right now.”

“This is awkward… it is so hard to be friends with two people who are having a spat…”

“Oh my god, who cares?” Quoll said.

“I care! I care deeply.”

“I _said_ I don’t want to talk about it,” Liquid said again, grouchily.

“See?” Quoll said. “You shouldn’t pester him about it, Wolf. It’s rude.”

“You’re rude. And I want to help!” Wolf insisted, “Liquid and Mantis were both so much happier when they were not angry at each other over something that I am sure is just stupid anyway.”

“It’s not stupid,” Liquid mumbled. He put down his binoculars and sighed. “I mean, what Mantis did was stupid, but I have every right to be mad.”

Wolf leaned towards him, her eyes gleaming. “What’d he do?”

Liquid averted his eyes. "He... interfered with my relationships."

"What relationships? Me and him are your only friends, unless you count Ocelot but that’s—“

"I have many friends!"

"All your friends are goats,” Quoll lit a cigarette which earned her judgemental looks from both Wolf and Liquid, albeit for different reasons."What? This isn't more or less professional than a diazepam addiction, isn't it?" she complained.

"I don't have an addiction!" Wolf protested.

Liquid groaned. "Would you two shut up! And I go to the AC platform because I like the animals, yes, but also I have friends there!"

Wolf snorted. "Like who, that Kudu pig?"

"...yes?"

Quoll let out a throaty laugh that devolved into a coughing fit at Wolf's expression.

"How dare you betray me like this, Liquid?!" She punched his side. "You shouldn't spend your time with scum like him!"

"Oh, so did Mantis try to brainwash you too?"

Wolf looked at him, confusion on her pretty face. "What? I don't give a shit what Mantis says, I just can't stand dirty Iraqis."

“ _Excuse me?_ “ Liquid said, incredulously, at the same time Quoll pointed a finger at Wolf and called her racist.

“You know what Iraq did to my people!” Wolf said, tossing back her hair.

“Yes, but that wasn’t _Gabir_. His home region got bulldozed by Saddam, too!”

“You are firstnaming him?!”

“Whatever happened to leaving our nationalities behind?” Quoll said, “I thought that was the whole _point_ of Outer Heaven. We’re stateless. How can you judge someone for being from another country if they’re not even part of that country anymore?”

“Just because you left your nation does not mean your nation left you,” Wolf said, “he still had his dirty upbringing warping his thoughts.”

“ _His_ thoughts are warped?”

“Like I _just_ said,” Liquid said, “he told me he sympathised with the Kurds— oh nevermind! That’s completely beside the point!”

“I bet he has sex with his goats,” Wolf muttered.

“You _have_ been talking to Mantis about him!”

“Liquid, why are all of your friends racist?” Quoll said snidely.

“I don’t know, that’s not _my_ fault. _I’m_ not racist.”

“You had a relationship with someone who was party to genocide,” Wolf said.

“When did this become being party to genocide!?”

“Will you three shut up and pay attention!!” Flaming Buffalo suddenly yelled over the radio. “We can hear you squawking from here!”

“Sorry, captain,” Quoll said into the radio, then lit up another cigarette with a sigh. “I’m gonna get so drunk back at camp tonight.”

“This is why I didn’t want to talk about it,” Liquid said sourly, scanning the horizon with his binoculars again.

“What,” Wolf said, “because Mantis is right about Kudu?”

“No, he’s all wrong — _you’re_ all wrong too but at least Mantis doesn’t hate him because he hates people from Iraq. …I think.”

"Don't tell me he is jealous, why does he act like a literal child?"

"You're jealous too, Wolf,” Quoll pointed out. "You get mad at me for just _looking_ at Quiet."

"That is different."

Liquid sighed again, he didn't want to talk about this anymore. Mostly he was trying to forget about the whole thing which until now he had managed more or less successfully.

After their confrontation Mantis had backed off and Liquid had not seen him since. He slowly managed to salvage what was left between him and Kudu, but the boy was still terrified of Mantis, he had become more quiet and his guilt in turn worse.

"Oi," Wolf whispered, dragging him out of his worries. "I think something's about to happen!"

Liquid shook himself, refocusing on the horizon and the caravan of enemy vehicles trundling into view. “You two brought tank rounds, right?”

“Yes.”

“Lemme borrow some, Wolf,” Quoll said.

“Ugh. Fine.”

Liquid suppressed another sigh as they squabbled. For all everyone went on about how he was supposed to be an example for all the soldiers, here he was playing spotter for two snipers who prided themselves on not needing one. Well, more like Wolf prided herself on not needing one and Quoll was too proud to let Wolf do it for her. So he was… Quoll’s spotter? Whatever he was, it was boring and he would certainly be breaking formation as soon as the enemy was in sprinting distance.

“So what did Mantis do to scare Kudu off?” Wolf said.

“Is now really the time for this?” Quoll said, rolling her eyes.

“These people look like chumps. We can chat…”

“But— it’s stupid,” Liquid objected. “There was no reason for Mantis to be as upset as he was. Kudu and I didn’t even have sex.”

“Does the Boss know about this?” Quoll said.

“I bet the Boss would rather Liquid have sex with Kudu than Mantis or Ocelot,” Wolf replied. “I hear he likes Kudu.”

“…because he sees Kudu as an extension of the goat herd.”

“Tell me more about the situation, Liquid,” Wolf said, talking over Quoll. “I am sure I could give you sound advice.”

“Sound advice?” Liquid said. “ _You?_ “

“What do you have to lose?”

"I don't see what there is to tell you,” Liquid snorted. "Me and Kudu are... close. Mantis got jealous."

"Did he try to kill him?"

"What? No! He wouldn't do that. I think..."

Quoll rolled her eyes and shushed them. Ignoring her, Wolf continued to needle Liquid.

"So what _did_ he do?"

"He used his powers on him, I'm sure. To make him say stuff he didn't want to." Sighing, Liquid played around with his combat knife, throwing it into the air and spinning it between his hands. "He must have scared him pretty badly, Kudu literally ran away when I tried to talk to him."

Wolf started laughing. "Haha! That's our Mantis, good on him!"

"I thought you were going to give me 'sound advice'?"

"My advice is: stop hanging around with Kudu because he is a depraved coward."

Liquid elbowed her, hard enough for her to lose focus and curse him out as she tried to adjust her rifle.

"Oh my god, can you two please stop fucking around? You idiots are going to sabotage the entire mission!" Quoll snarled at them.

“At least I will not give us away by smoking,” Wolf muttered.

“Like anyone can even see that from here.”

“Anyway, Liquid, if you do that then Mantis will be happy with you again!”

“Isn’t that entirely missing the point?!” Liquid said. “I don’t want to capitulate to him, he’s unreasonable.”

“But isn’t it either him or Kudu?”

“At this rate, I’d rather have Kudu. He doesn’t care who else I talk to. With Mantis it feels like he doesn’t want me to live my own life.”

“Well, last time he let you go off and do what you wanted, you ended up in a prison camp for four years. Is that not so?”

“…”

Quoll took a shot and sourly reloaded.

* * *

Mantis felt unreasonably nervous as he stood outside Venom’s office. Opening the door a crack and peeking inside he spotted Venom at his desk with DD sleeping at his feet, seemingly busied by paperwork though Mantis knew better.

"Mantis? Did Ocelot send you?"

"Er, no. There is something I wanted to talk to you about, Boss."

Venom seemed to notice his discomfort and gave him the slightest smile. "Have a seat, then. What can I do for you?"

"I would like to... be reassigned. Maybe even leave Base altogether, I'm not sure."

Blinking, Venom stared at him.

“Why?” he said.

“Does it really matter why?”

“Considering how much we use your talents here, yes, it does matter.”

Mantis looked down at his lap, ground the toe of one boot into the floor petulantly. “I, um… things have gone sour between Eli and I… and Ocelot and I as well… I don’t think I should be around them anymore but obviously I can’t ask for _them_ to be transferred.”

“Do either of them know you’re asking this?”

“No…”

"And do you really think they'd want you gone?"

Mantis hesitated. "...Eli? Yes. Ocelot... wouldn't care I think."

Venom stared again.

"..."

"Listen, Mantis, if you really want to leave I can not stop you. But I think it would better to try to resolve your issues with them instead of trying to run away."

He flinched. Venom had called him out without meaning to. "I'm not trying to run away..."

"Eli may be stubborn, but he is sensible enough to talk things out, even if he tends to react impulsively at first."

"Mh..."

"Maybe you'd prefer to talk to a neutral party first? I can make time for you."

“You’re Eli’s father. And you like Kudu.”

“Kudu?” He plainly didn’t see what he had to do with this.

Mantis let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t like Kudu. Especially now that he and Eli are… together. It’s not… it’s not right. I just wanted to protect Eli but he and Ocelot both turned on me.”

“What did you do?”

“I— I tried to raise concerns about their past together. But I… messed up. I came off as aggressive to Kudu, which upset Eli when he heard about it, and Ocelot wasn’t sympathetic when I explained the situation to him.”

“Hmm.”

“…I’m not going to defend how I talked to Kudu. Maybe I did go too far. I don’t know. I only did what seemed appropriate at the time.” He picked at the hem of his shorts. “I could never trust someone like that with Eli. Eli hates that I interfere with his life like that, but he’s my— he’s my _boyfriend_. I think I have a right to be upset if he’s making eyes at anyone, let alone someone like… that.”

“I don’t think you have that right when Ocelot is also your ‘boyfriend’.”

“…well, no… but I wouldn’t mind so much if it were someone else, someone like,“ Mantis wracked his brain for a moment, “maybe Wolf. I could trust Wolf not to hurt him.”

“And you wouldn’t worry about him liking Wolf more than he likes you.”

Mantis actually flinched. For someone whose head was legitimately empty at least 60% of the time, Venom could make some needle-pointed observations.

Venom sighed.

"Listen Mantis, you clearly aren't willing to tell me the whole story. But I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt; you're acting in Eli's best interests, correct?"

Upset that he had to think about this at all, Mantis nodded quickly. Sure, he might have been acting selfish, but his... resentment for Kudu had to have stemmed from more than just plain jealousy.

Right?

"I... uh, yes."

Venom nodded. "Good. So you clearly care about Eli's wellbeing and only want for him to be happy and safe."

Mantis waited for him to continue, but after a few moments he realised that Venom had merely made a statement and seemed to be done with their conversation already as if everything was crystal clear.

"I care about Eli,” Mantis mumbled more to himself than anyone else only to repeat it again, louder this time. "I care about him."

"Then you must let him do as he pleases. He's a strong-willed free spirit, no matter if you are right or wrong, he will always try to go against your advice. He doesn't like being patronised, no matter how well meaning." Venom smiled softly. "I had to learn that the hard way."

Mantis was stunned. "You're telling me to just... let him be? But what if he gets hurt?"

Leaning back, Venom stretched in his chair and reached under the desk to pet DD who had raised his head to rub it against Venom's thigh. "If he gets hurt then he gets hurt. I know it's hard to stand when you can see him suffer, but he will be fine, in one way or another."

Mantis looked at his lap, abashed.

"That's something you have to learn when caring for others, Mantis. Sometimes protecting someone means to let them walk their own way."

It wasn't fair. He knew Eli was happy now, happier than he had been before, and it killed Mantis to know that he couldn't have all that happiness to himself.

Still, Venom was right, maybe. Mantis wasn't sure, but the man knew Eli surprisingly well, had seen sides of him that Mantis never got to see himself first hand.

"Thank you, Boss,” he mumbled and slid off his chair, attempting to flee from Venom's intimidating presence as casually as possible.

"Take care." The Boss’ voice echoed in his head as he blinked himself back into his room, under his blanket, hiding away and hugging his pillow to his chest.

He need time to think.

But most of all, he missed Eli.

* * *

As was long-standing tradition on Mother Base, the first Saturday night of each month was dedicated to a big birthday party for everyone whose birthday was that month. It was mostly an excuse to drink and eat cake, but it was a welcome break in routine for the Outer Heaven soldiers.

“Is it your birthday we are celebrating yet?” Wolf asked Liquid.

“What? No, I told you. My birthday’s in June.”

“Ah, next month then.”

“Yes.”

Liquid’s birthday was just one of many tidbits of information about him that Wolf couldn’t be assed to remember, with another one being her eye-rolling tendency to refer him as ‘gay’ no matter how many times he told her he liked women, too. Personally, Liquid would have thought that this month not being his birthday month was obvious, because EVA hadn’t dropped by for the party. He would be shocked if she didn’t do that in June.

“You know, Wolf, last I checked beer was haram.”

“But it’s a birthday party! Allah is not looking.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works…”

Liquid looked over at Kudu who was staring at them anxiously as he picked at his cake.

"Hey, Gabir!" He grinned as he inched closer and put his arm around Kudu's shoulder. "Have you met Wolf yet? She's in the same unit that I'm in."

"...hello,” Kudu said quietly in Arabic, not daring to look up at her and instead focusing on the beer she was holding.

Wolf narrowed her eyes. "So you're the goat boy Liquid has been acting all obsessed over lately?"

"Don't be rude, Wolf." Liquid shot her a sour look. "We're here to have fun."

"Oh, but I am!" She beamed and emptied her bottle, staring at Kudu defiantly. "Do you want some, goat boy?"

Kudu looked mortified. “N-No thank you.”

“Wolf thinks the haram-halal ratio is a real thing,” Liquid explained.

“It… it’s not.”

“Genocide isn’t halal either,” Wolf sneered. “ _That_ certainly didn’t stop you damn Iraqis.”

“B-But…”

Liquid stepped between the two of them. “Let’s not get into this here,” he said, “remember what was said about leaving our nationalities behind?”

“I was born a Kurd and I will die a Kurd!” Wolf snapped.

“I’ve never even met a Kurd before…” Kudu mumbled.

“Why are you even called ‘Kudu’?” Wolf said, “that is a big, imposing animal and you are just…” she gestured vaguely to him. “Like _that_.”

“Wolf!” Liquid said reproachfully.

“I didn’t pick my codename,” Kudu said, “it was assigned to me like everyone else.”

"I chose my own codename,” Wolf said and opened another bottle. "If you're assertive enough you can get anything you want!"

Kudu shot Liquid a helpless look.

"I think Mantis chose his own name too..." Liquid patted Kudu's arm reassuringly. "Still, names or heritage don't define us here. We pave our own paths,” he added solemnly.

But Wolf didn't bother to let up.

"So, where's Mantis anyway? Usually he drinks all the vodka at these parties, I'm surprised he hasn't shown up yet, is he busy fucking around again?"

"...I haven't spoken to him in a while."

"Why? Because he made Kudu piss himself?"

Kudu stiffened, Liquid flipped Wolf off while she laughed loud enough for people to look over.

"You shouldn't speak like that,” Kudu told her quietly. "It's not right for a pretty woman."

Liquid cringed, this wasn't going to end well.

“Excuse me??” Wolf said.

“I-I meant that as a compliment! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be i-inappropriate.”

“Ah, so now you will backtrack before I tell Quiet on you for sexual harassment.”

“That was not sexual harassment,” Liquid said. “Get a little drunker and we’ll see sexual harassment.”

“That is not funny,” Wolf whined, “besides, isn’t Kudu gay too?”

“How on Earth is that relevant??” Liquid said at the same time as Kudu gasped, horrified, “No!!!”

“Everyone knows it is more embarrassing for a woman to be harassed by a gay man than a straight one,” Wolf explained.

“I don’t follow,” Liquid said, rubbing his head. Wolf’s wild leaps in logic - especially when drunk - sometimes reminded him of Mantis, and he wondered if it was just the effect that exposure to Ocelot at a young age had on a developing mind.

“I’m not g-gay,” Kudu said quietly, his face completely red. “I like w- _women_. I am _normal_.”

“Are you saying being gay _isn’t_ normal?” Wolf said loudly.

“Hey, that’s not cool here,” a nearby soldier scolded. “We have lots of gay comrades and even commanders. You should respect that.”

“I didn’t—“ Kudu started, but cut himself off and covered his face with his hands. Wolf pointed at him and laughed.

“He’s being taken out of context,” Liquid said.

“We should go find Mantis,” Wolf suggested, “he could tell us Kudu’s real thoughts.”

“Please no,” Kudu said.

“I don’t trust Mantis with Kudu,” Liquid said.

“You are seriously mad about Mantis bugging him?” Wolf said, then laughed at her own pun. Liquid rolled his eyes.

“I’m confused as to why you think I _shouldn’t_ be mad.”

“It is not like Kudu is your boyfriend or anything. Or _is_ he? I want to hear it from Kudu himself!”

Kudu muttered something unintelligible and tried to flee. Liquid, almost on instinct, grabbed his sleeve to prevent him from going.

“I will go find him myself!” Wolf declared, and flounced off.

“…I don’t think it’s a good idea to let her wander off alone drunk,” Liquid said.

"I'm not letting some stupid man tell me what to do!!" Wolf could be heard yelling as she pushed through the crowd, followed by the laughter of a few recruits.

"Why are you friends with her again...?" Kudu asked, grimacing.

"I swear, she isn't usually like this. Or, well, not _as_ bad."

"Mantis!!! Why are you hiding? Come here!"

Liquid looked up to watch Wolf throw herself at Mantis and pulling him down to her height. He had to stifle a laugh, despite the discomfort he felt at Mantis' presence.

Wolf didn't seem to care about their issues at all though and promptly dragged Mantis to their table - Kudu tensed up next to Liquid who protectively pulled him closer.

"Finally we're all together again! Three old friends – and goat boy!" Wolf beamed and raised her bottle. "I missed your cranky ass, Mantis. Haha, and I bet you missed Liquid's di—"

"Wolf!" Liquid and Mantis both yelled at her at the same time.

Kudu, meanwhile, looked like he might piss his pants again. Liquid squeezed his hand reassuringly under the table.

“…I see you three have been enjoying the party,” Mantis said. His voice was way too deliberately even.

“Yeah,” Liquid said. “Wasn’t really expecting to see you here.”

“This is my Base too…

“Damn right!” Wolf said, slamming the end of her bottle on the table. “Mantis is _our_ comrade!”

“Yes, and I hear our comrade recently put in a request to be transferred,” Liquid said, raising an eyebrow. Mantis shrunk back into his chair.

Kudu looked between the two of them. “Is this… true?”

“Did Ocelot suggest it?”

“It was my idea,” Mantis said, so quietly it was hard to hear him over the noise of the party. The other three had to lean in. “V wouldn’t take the request, though. At least, not unless I talked to you first.”

“I’m sorry for causing this trouble,” Kudu said.

“It’s not your fault,” Liquid said quickly.

Mantis huffed. “…I… I want to… apologize. To both of you.”

“Whaaaaat?” Wolf said, obnoxiously noisy. “Are you feeling alright, Mantis? Are you sick?!”

“ _Are_ you sick?” Liquid said, reaching out to feel Mantis’ forehead. Mantis leaned back.

“I’m _fine_. I realized that I was out of line, that’s all. That does not mean I fucking hate you any less, Kudu,” he shot a glare at him, “but it’s Eli’s life and I shouldn’t try to… control him.”

“…at least you’ve halfway realized the point,” Liquid said. Kudu looked miserable.

"You're all so boring!" Wolf pouted. "I wanna dance. Liquid, dance with me."

Liquid actually was in the mood, kind of, but when Kudu shot him a pleading look he knew that he couldn't leave the poor kid alone with Mantis.

"Sorry, I'm still sore from last week's assignment."

"Oh, please! You didn't even get shot this time!" Wolf complained.

"I-I'll.. dance with you..." Kudu mumbled.

All three of them stared in disbelief.

“You just want to get away from Mantis, don’t you?” Liquid said.

“…”

“Eli, I—“ Mantis started, “I wanted to talk to you by myself…”

Liquid gave him an overly cool expression. “Fine then. Wolf, behave yourself.”

“Do not worry about meeee,” Wolf drawled, grabbing Kudu by the arm and dragging him off. Kudu would probably be the first sober person to hit the Outer Heaven birthday party dance floor in years, or perhaps ever.

There was a short, awkward pause. Mantis fidgeted. “Can we go somewhere else? I don’t want to be interrupted. Especially by drunk loons.”

“Fine then,” Liquid said, getting up. “Come on.”


	22. Chapter 22

Though he hadn’t exactly been drinking much himself, Liquid still found the quiet night air a welcome relief. “It’s not much of an apology if you go right back to trying to convince me to leave him,” he said.

“That’s not…”

“A bond goes two ways, Mantis. I can sense your intentions.”

Mantis sighed, leaning on the railing next to Liquid, looking out over the black ocean. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Fucked Ocelot lately? Or random soldiers, maybe?”

“This isn’t about that. …Ocelot and I are having a bit of a separation right now anyway.”

“I bet he called you out on being a jealous bitch when you tried to complain to him.”

Mantis’ stung silence told Liquid that that was _exactly_ what happened. He snorted.

“I get why you hate Gabir, Mantis, I really do.”

“I don’t get why you pretend you don’t.”

There was a long pause. At length, Liquid sighed. “I don’t hate him.”

“I can feel it, Eli. Deep down, you’re angry. At him.”

“Not at him. Not while I know there’s others still out there that I haven’t killed yet.” Liquid thumbed at a flake of peeling paint on the railing. It was rusty underneath, the perennial casualty of salt air. “Maybe one day when the rest of them get what they deserve I’ll place it all on Gabir’s head. …but that’s not fair.”

“He could have stopped it.”

“How? He was just a kid himself, Mantis. Just trying to survive that hell, same as me.”

“That’s not what you thought of him back then,” Mantis accused.

“I have the benefit of hindsight now, don’t I? I can look back on it and see things how they really were. I can see that I only hated him because he was the only one I _could_ hate, that I _could_ get angry at without being punished. I was too _scared_ to even raise my voice at the others, but Gabir never so much as said a word in his defense.”

“I am not impressed by spinelessness,” Mantis said coldly.

Liquid shot him a glare. “No one said you had to be.”

"Anyway, this isn't what I'm here for." Nonchalantly nursing his drink, Mantis stared into the ocean.

"Well, if you're not here to complain what _are_ you here for?"

Mantis sighed. "...because I miss you."

"...you know your actions don't really line up with your feelings, right? You didn't need me before either, you seemed perfectly happy with Ocelot." Looking over at him, Liquid could clearly tell that Mantis was anxious, maybe scared even. Of confrontation, being alone - he couldn't tell.

"I can't show my face to Ocelot again, not after..." Mantis wrapped his skinny arms around his frame. "He was so nice... until he wasn't."

"Well, you two have something in common then,” Liquid scoffed but, still curious, couldn't help but continue. "...what happened between you two anyway?"

Mantis went silent for a long while, uncomfortably picking at his uniform. "...I did something very stupid."

"More stupid than sabotaging my and _your_ relationships?"

"I—" A choked up sound escaped Mantis and he clasped at his mask. "I was so upset a-and— I lost control I suppose. Maybe it was on purpose too. Who knows."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Liquid grabbed his arm to turn Mantis to face him. "What did you _do?_ "

"...I overdosed. If Ocelot hadn't found me I would have—"

Liquid stared at him for a second, incredulously. "Tell me you're just making this up just to make me pity you..."

"...no."

He couldn't tell if he wanted to yell at Mantis, hit him or comfort him. "Did you talk to anyone else about this? If someone finds out that you're unstable to the point of... they're going to kick you out!"

"Is that all you care about...?" Mantis winced.

"Of _course_ I care about that! Do you really think I'd want you gone? You know how I feel about you!" Liquid shook him limply. "You need help, Mantis. Not from Ocelot and not from me either."

Mantis laughed but Liquid could see he was crying. "No doctor can fix me, you know I've always been this way."

"Well it certainly got worse after Ocelot got his hands on you!”

“I— I grew up!” Mantis said. “I was still a child when you left me.”

“You’re still a child. You act like one, at least.”

“And you’re not a day older since you got shot down. Neither of us can move on without the other.”

“Don’t give me that,” Liquid said.

“... when I tried to kill myself I felt like back then... like I had lost you again. I was so aimless and scared, I've always been like that without you.” Mantis admitted, finally undoing his mask to wipe tears and snot before putting it back on. "I felt like if you were truly gone, dead even, I wanted to join you."

“But I'm not dead!” Liquid grabbed him. “I'm still here! If you feel like you lost me then it's simply because you gave up!”

Mantis stared at him, grabbing his wrists almost like he wanted to pry Liquid off of him - but instead, he made him stay. “Eli…”

"Why do you have to make everything more complicated than it already is? Why can't you just let the past be and have us enjoy what we have now?!"

"Because it's my fault that it is like this now and whenever I see you with Kudu it reminds me that it was _me_ who failed to protect you and it was _me_ who fell for Ocelot's bullshit and it was _me_ who despite that fell in love with him— betraying you and myself—"

"Mantis, you need to calm down..." Liquid's grip on him tightened.

Mantis exhaled exhaustedly, visibly shaking. "I suppose the worst part is that while you suffered and were hurt it was out of your control, there was nothing you could’ve done — but I managed to author my own disaster. I could've walked out at any point."

"So why didn't you...?" Liquid asked tentatively.

Mantis laughed and shook his head. "Because I didn't want to! That's why I'm the only one at fault, the one solely responsible for—"

Liquid wanted to snap him out of it, and if he didn't know better, if he didn't _feel_ what Mantis was going through, he's assume that it was all just for pity and attention.

He felt like his heart was going to break knowing Mantis truly believed he had caused all the pain and sorrow in their lives all by himself. There wasn't much he could do to stop the babbling, the only thing that Liquid instinctively leaned into was hugging Mantis tight to his chest, suffocating any more hysteric spiralling with his face pressed against the other's shoulder.

And finally Mantis gave up, silently sobbing against him and being held for what seemed way too long.

"We should go back to the party..." Liquid mumbled eventually. "I'm worried Wolf is gonna maul Kudu and you could use another drink, hm?"

"Mh." Mantis nodded, unwilling to let go of Liquid just yet.

Liquid gently lead him back to their original table. He was surprised to find that Wolf and Kudu had returned as well - and more surprisingly, Wolf was brazenly leaning her head on Kudu’s shoulder, looking quite pleased with herself.

“Getting along now?” Liquid said, stealing Wolf’s drink to give to Mantis. “I think that’s a good sign you’ve had enough.”

“Goat boy is so soooooft,” Wolf crooned, petting Kudu’s hair, then kissing his cheek.

“She’s very nice after she’s gotten some energy out,” Kudu said quietly.

“Right,” Liquid said, laughing. “She’s like an animal, you need to give her a chance to work her frenzy off and then she’ll eat out of your palm!”

“Hey,” Wolf said, pouting exaggeratedly.

“I’m right and you know it.”

“Mmmmmmmnnn.” She threw her arms around Kudu’s shoulders, nuzzling him. “So warm…”

Leaving them to their own devices, Liquid turned back to Mantis and gingerly put a hand on his knee. “Feeling a little calmer?” he said quietly.

“…yeah.”

Mantis downed Wolf's drink as fast as he could and grabbed some more for him and Liquid.

"Loosening up is fine, but you shouldn't overdo it,” Liquid joked and nipped at his own drink.

"I'm alright,” Mantis slurred and leaned against him.

Slowly the party dissolved into small groups and eventually even Kudu and Wolf disappeared, though Liquid assumed that Kudu would make sure she would get into bed safely.

Mantis had gone silent, comfortably nursing his drink until Liquid decided that they both had enough and offered to walk Mantis back to his room.

"I can walk just fine," Mantis announced as he dangerously swayed in Liquid's hold when they made their way to Medical.

"If I had drank as much as you did I would've passed out on the floor hours ago."

Chuckling, Mantis clung to Liquid as they stood in front of his door. "See... I made it."

"Uh-huh."

Honestly, Liquid would be lying if he pretended that he hadn't seen this coming, still Mantis pulling him inside with him surprised a little part of him.

Mantis' shirt came off before the mask but Liquid eagerly kissed him. Despite the fact that he had only drank through a small straw Mantis tasted so strongly of alcohol that Liquid had to pull back and wipe his mouth.

"Is this a bad idea?" he asked.

Mantis frowned and bit at Liquid's mouth. "Don't make me kick you out now."

When they made it onto the bed they had lost most of their clothing though Mantis had just gotten too impatient and drawn Liquid's cock out of his pants, already crawling down to mouth at it.

"Slow down..." Liquid murmured but didn't really mean it because it had been a while and _god_ had he missed this.

 _I wanna make you feel good,_ Mantis thought. _Will you let me do it?_

"Do what?" Liquid asked dumbly and had to stifle a moan when Mantis' hand squeezed his ass.

_You said you wanted to do it the other way around._

“Ah— y-yes, I did say that, didn’t I…”

_I want to try. I want to give you what you want, Eli._

Liquid gulped. As much as it seemed obvious in retrospect that this would happen - he was still rather caught off-guard. The well-used bottle of lube appeared in Mantis’ hand without Liquid really realizing it was there.

“It’s not like you haven’t done this before,” Mantis said.

“I know—“

“I won’t hurt you, Eli.”

“I know,” Liquid said. “I know.”

He bit his tongue as Mantis inserted a finger. It wasn’t a shove, and Mantis had soft little hands with carefully filed nails. Even now - especially now - the expectation of violence was engrained in Liquid.

“See?” Mantis said. “It’s good.”

“I— yeah.”

He coyly stroked Liquid’s dick with his other hand, making eyes at him. “This isn’t new, Eli.”

“I know!! Just get on with it!”

“Out of patience already?”

"You're drunk. Hurry up."

Mantis mouthed the head of his cock, smiling shyly around it, fingers still working. "I want to take my sweet time."

And that Mantis did; Liquid was convinced he would just nut in his face at this rate, but somehow the steady pace and excruciating teasing kept him on edge just well enough to not lose it completely. In more ways than one, really.

He could feel that Mantis was incredibly horny as well, fueled by alcohol and pent up energy just as he was, but it was all lined with utter devotion towards him, Liquid, which really placed the whole ordeal closer to torture.

When Mantis was finally satisfied with his preparation work he moved up Liquid's body, gently spreading his legs further on his way to settle between them.

Stroking Liquid's dick one more time, squeezing his balls softly, Mantis kissed him deeply before lining himself up.

"Ready?" he breathed and watched Liquid's anxieties try to take the better of him. "We can stop whenever you need to."

Liquid hesitated for a second, then nodded against Mantis' neck and tried to steal some more kisses.

For some reason it felt like a really big deal to Liquid when Mantis pushed in, not like he had went through longer and more painful experiences – granted Mantis wasn't too big, just the right size, really, still Liquid groaned deeply, squirmed, as he felt _all of him_ inside.

He tried to speak, but all that came out were incoherent babbles, slightly on the edge of panic as Mantis shushed and kissed him before starting to move with a gentle rhythm.

And just like that, Liquid started feeling like pure bliss.

He gasped wordlessly as Mantis insistently kissed his mouth, his face. “You’re good, Eli,” Mantis whispered. “You… feel good.”

“Ahh—“

Mantis held him tight. “D’you like this?”

“Yes, yes—-“

Even aside from the physical pleasure, it was just _comfortable_ \- easy to let go, set everything aside, even if it was only just for the moment. Liquid didn’t have to think or worry about anything else but the feeling of Mantis inside him and his hands and mouth on him. He clung back desperately.

“Fuck, M-Mantis…”

Mantis kissed him again. Liquid guessed he was getting a bit drunker just from second-hand vodka. He didn’t care.

“Mantis, I’m gonna—…”

“Shh. Just let it happen.”

Despite Liquid’s stammering warning, it was Mantis who climaxed first, shaking against Liquid’s chest. Liquid tightened around him, letting out an embarrassing yelp.

“Eli…” Mantis mumbled, clumsily grabbing for Liquid’s cock. “I love you… I love you.”

“M-Mantis-—“

Liquid spilled over Mantis’ hand with a whimper, tossing his head back.

Mantis collapsed against his chest, exhausted, giving Liquid’s neck more tired kisses. “Eli…”

“Mantis… d’you mean it…?”

“Mean what… what are you talking about?”

“You love me — you said you-“

Mantis shut him up with a kiss. “I do, Eli,” he said. “I do.”

“I— I love you too, Mantis.”

* * *

If things were stable with Liquid again, then Mantis wondered why he still felt hollow and depressed. He found himself looking for answers in front of Ocelot’s office door.

“Come in, Bogomol.”

“Ocelot… are you busy?”

Ocelot put down his papers. “I can make some time for you. You’ve settled down lately.”

“You noticed?”

“Of course I noticed. What did you want to talk to me about?”

Mantis took a deep breath. "I thought you didn't care."

"Well, that doesn't mean I can't keep an eye on you, does it?"

Nodding mutely, Mantis took the liberty to sit at Ocelot's desk like he had done so many times before. "I haven't seen you in weeks. You didn't even ask for me to assist you with interrogations... I thought I was useful to you. Guess I was wrong, though, huh?"

Ocelot leaned back in his chair and looked him up and down. "I assumed you wouldn't be comfortable working with me. I'll gladly have you help me out again, if that's what this is about?" He raised an eyebrow.

Despite wearing the mask Mantis hid his face against his shoulder. "No..."

"What do you want then, Bogomol?"

Being called that again struck a cord with Mantis, he flinched slightly and hugged his chest.

"Stop pouting and tell me what you want." Ocelot didn't seem amused.

"I'm... unhappy. Even though I have Eli and things are well. I miss you..."

"I thought we've been over this?"

Mantis snapped his head around to glare at Ocelot. "Just because you keep shutting me down doesn't mean we are done talking about it!"

Sighing, Ocelot folded his hands solemnly, expression hard to read. "I was under the assumption that you had finally understood the situation. Last time we talked you threw some pretty cruel accusations my way."

"You _agreed_ with me!!!"

Ocelot snorted. "That doesn't make them any less cruel."

“You’re the cruel one,” Mantis mumbled petulantly.

“And that is the crux of the issue, yes.”

“That’s not— why are you so afraid to be anything other than the ‘bad guy’?!”

Ocelot seemed slightly taken aback. “Afraid?” he said.

“Yes, afraid! You’re scared to show you care about anyone other than Big Boss! You can only see other people in terms of advantages or disadvantages. All you see me is as is a weak spot!”

“You’ve certainly caused _enough_ trouble for me,” Ocelot snapped.

“You could have just let me go - but you _didn’t_.”

“Are you trying to make me regret that?”

“Why can’t you just… is it something wrong with _me?_ “

“It wouldn’t matter. You have Eli now.”

“But I miss you.”

"I can't force you to stay away. You've been behaving yourself, what you do in your free now time is none of my business."

Mantis opened his mouth and closed it again, staring at Ocelot in disbelief.

"But I am busy working at the moment, so you'll have to wait until I am finished."

"No, no. Ocelot," Mantis shook his head. "I'm not here to suck your dick and leave again to pretend nothing has happened."

"So you're finally satisfied with Eli?"

"Ah, it really is the other way around, I think..." he stammered, adjusting his mask as he tried to get back on track. "I just think that maybe I can be with Eli _and_ spend time with you—"

"My, Bogomol. I always knew you were greedy but I didn't think it'd make you throw away what little morals you have left."

"I'm not here for sex!" Mantis complained and slid off to grab at Ocelot's collar.

"But aren't you?" Ocelot teased, getting up as well as he raised his hands. "If you mess up my office again there'll be consequences."

"No, you stupid old bastard! I know you _know_ exactly what I want!" Mantis cried and tried to shake him, eventually giving and letting himself fall against Ocelot's chest, muffling his voice. "Why can't you let me have this one thing!"

"Silly boy," Ocelot whistled and patted Mantis' back. "You don't even know what you want from yourself, you're still a scared little child after all."

"You—"

"That's right. It's all my fault. Keep telling yourself that, it'll be your only comfort." Ocelot let Mantis cry for a bit, then pushed him back and undid his mask for him. "Now wipe your face and help me finish those papers, you need something to calm down with."

All Mantis could do was nod, distraught but satisfied enough to not complain. Maybe Ocelot was right, maybe with time he'd be able to act normal around the old man without having his emotions overwhelm him.

“There’s a good boy, Bogomolechik.”


	23. Chapter 23

Late 1995.

Liquid sat on the fence at the AC Platform, kicking his legs, blankly watching Kudu shovel sawdust. He had nothing in particular on his mind, in fact he was quite bored.

Kudu paused, wiping the sweat off his face with his shirt. “I understand why your father said you couldn’t come to South Africa with them. Your unit only _just_ got back from— where was it?”

“Burma. And I wasn’t asking for my whole unit to be assigned, I just wanted to go individually!”

“Yes, but they have these rules in place for a reason… if they broke them for you, they’d have to break them for everyone, and there’s lots of overachievers here who could—“

“They wouldn’t have to break them for _everyone_.“

Kudu frowned slightly. “I thought you didn’t like using your status as the Boss’ son.”

“Bah.” Liquid kicked his legs again. “If the Galzburg FOB is important enough that Father has to see to its construction personally, then I think I should be there too.”

“Now you just sound nosy.” Zaynab headbutted Kudu in the thigh. Kudu patted her head, distracted. “By the way, how is Wolf doing? She was very upset when Flaming Buffalo retired.”

“She’s fine now.”

“That’s good.”

“You still have a soft spot for her,” Liquid teased.

“Ah, here you are,” Mantis said, approaching. “I _thought_ you went off to sulk, Eli.”

“I’m not sulking!”

Mantis ignored his complaints and hugged him from behind, nuzzling Liquid's neck. "Weren't you supposed to help Kudu out when you're here? I've heard many complaints about you standing in the way and distracting him from his work."

"And _you're_ not supposed to be here at all. Shouldn't you be monitoring Father's mission?" Liquid whined but still let himself be hugged, leaning back into the touch slightly.

"It got boring, everything is going so smoothly I really doubt this'll be more than a routine trip for him. Ocelot for some reason just let me go take a break after he made such a big deal out of the whole thing. Figures."

"Ah, you two? I could indeed use some help..." Kudu interrupted shyly. "At least distract the goats a little, they need some attention."

"Of course!" Liquid beamed and jumped up, leaving Mantis behind with an irritated expression as one small goat starting _baa_ ing at him stubbornly.

* * *

When the fall of the Galzburg FOB was first reported, all Liquid could do was find somewhere to hide and cry like a small child. Mantis, Kudu, Doom Kangaroo, Shadow Agama and Sapphire Cougar, even Wolf (despite her own grief over Quiet) and at one point Ocelot all attempted to comfort him but to no avail. Everyone at Outer Heaven was shaken. No one blamed Liquid for completely breaking down.

As more news of the exact circumstances trickled in, Liquid got _angry_.

“I’m leaving,” Liquid said.

“Okay,” Ocelot said. His voice sounded a little hollow these days. “You’re far from the only one.”

“This is— unjust. It’s not right.”

“I’m not in control of it, Liquid.”

“You wouldn’t do a damn thing to stop it if even if you were, wouldn’t you?” Liquid snarled, pulling at his hair. “ _That man_ commanded the unit sent to- he _sent in_ the soldier who— my own brother! killed my _father!_ And now he’s coming to take over Outer Heaven like he’s—- ugh!!”

“Calm down. You’ll be discharged with the rest of them before he even gets here. You’ll never see him face-to-face.”

“I’ll fucking kill him!!”

“And that’s why I’m making sure everyone who is requesting to leave will be gone before Big Boss gets here.”

“Don’t call him that! That- that was my father’s title, I don’t care if the other one came first, he’s the fake!!”

“Go wash your face, Liquid, and get your things packed.” Ocelot as the interim boss of Outer Heaven was strange and he was clearly affected by the deaths - but he couldn’t afford to show it, instead becoming an emotionless rock for the distraught soldiers to anchor to. Mantis had privately confided in Liquid and Wolf that he knew Ocelot was actually high most of the time right now and probably wouldn’t allow himself to come down until after everyone had settled in with the new Big Boss. Mantis wasn’t sure if the medical team even knew about it.

Lashing out at Ocelot didn’t do Liquid any good - he wasn’t getting much of a reaction out of him - so he stormed out of the office, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. At least now he knew he was leaving Outer Heaven on his own terms. He knew his biological father would kick him out if he was still here, assuming he didn’t just have him killed outright. He wouldn’t even had minded that if it gave him the opportunity to fight him first! But getting himself killed was useless if he couldn’t guarantee that “Big Boss” would die too. He had to find something else to do and bide his time… in the meantime, he wanted to know what his friends planned on doing… he had some wild idea of forming a unit together to take revenge but right now he wasn’t sure how he could pull that off. Besides, he felt like he might have been the only person to place blame on the commander of FOXHOUND for the Galzburg FOB fiasco.

“Hi, Liquid.” Wolf gave him a hug. “You just back from talking to Ocelot, no?”

Liquid nodded tiredly. “I’m on the next boat out of here.”

Wolf sighed. “Me too.”

“Back to Kurdistan?”

“Nepal. I want to continue my training, Sunset Osprey was kind enough to arrange an introduction for me with some Ghurkas. What about you?”

“Not sure. I suppose I’ll keep being a mercenary, I don’t really have any other skills.”

“You could always join forces with your mother.”

“I don’t know. That would be… well, I just don’t know. Think I’d rather just go solo.”

“It’s your life,” Wolf said, shrugging. “Do you… think we will ever meet again?”

Liquid wanted to say _I’m sure we will,_ but he wasn’t sure. Instead he just said, sincerely, “I hope so.”

Wolf nodded. “I do as well… I am going to go pack and say goodbye to everybody. I will see you on the boat.”

“Right. I will too.”

But Liquid didn’t head back to his barracks. Instead he caught a flight to the AC Platform. Pequod looked dead inside and Liquid wasn’t sure what to say to him. He mumbled his thanks as he got off the helicopter and Pequod, at least, seemed to understand that Liquid meant more than just the ride to the AC Platform.

“I’m leaving soon,” Liquid blurted out before Kudu could properly greet him.

Kudu just nodded. “I thought you would.”

“What about you? What are you going to do?”

“…” He looked around the animal enclosure before answering, slowly. “I heard that the new boss is going to terminate the contracts with the NGOs… the Animal Conservation Platform will be decommissioned and all the animals… well, I don’t know what will happen to them.”

“Wouldn’t that be up to the NGOs?”

“That sounds right, but, well… I-I just want to make sure they are all okay.”

“So you’re staying?” Liquid said.

“Just for a while. Once the animals are gone there will be nothing else here for me to do and I will be discharged anyway,” Kudu said helplessly. “Maybe I can join one of the NGOs. I would really like to return to my home village, but… but I…”

“…it’s not really safe for you to travel through Iraq while Saddam is still President?”

“No… it’s not…” he looked down at his boots. “I think things will change someday. I can go home then.”

“Fatima’ll probably be married already.” Liquid meant it as a joke, but it fell flat.

Kudu just sounded depressed. “I’m sure she already is.”

“I’ll— I’ll miss you,” Liquid said.

“Aw, pilot… I’ll miss you too…” Kudu was visibly fighting back tears and quickly turned to distract himself with a goat. “Maybe it’s better this way…”

“How do you mean…?”

“I don’t want to always… remind you of how you suffered. I want you to be free. Really, truly free. You can’t if I’m still—“

“But I want to see you again,” Liquid said, like his weak protest could change the past.

Kudu shook his head. “Besides, it would be better if we weren’t still tempting each other.”

Liquid had to laugh; it was the first time in days. “You really think so!”

Kudu glanced shyly up from his goat. “Do you think I’m strange?”

“I think you’re very strange, but liking me is the least strange thing about you.”

“There are… lots of people who like you, yes.”

Liquid crouched down next to him and grabbed his hand. “We’ll see each other again,” he promised. “It’ll be a few years, but all that means is that by then we’ll be more comfortable with ourselves and we won’t have any of this- any of this rubbish getting in our way. Right?”

Kudu nodded. “R-Right.”

Liquid pulled him into a tight hug. For a moment, he never wanted to let go.

“One day it won’t hurt anymore,” Kudu mumbled.

“We’ll see each other then.”

“Stay safe until then… okay?”

Liquid nodded. Kudu had tears streaming down his face - he leaned to wipe them against the goat’s fur, but Liquid caught him, wiping his cheeks with his hands. “I’ll stay safe,” he said. “If your NGO ever wants to collect rare frogs or something from a war zone, tell them you know a bloke.”

“I-I will.”

Liquid kissed him, and left.

Finally he went to see Mantis in his room, dark and gloomy as always. He didn’t know what to say to him.

“I knew you would leave,” Mantis said, squeezing his hand.

“Are you… staying? Have you decided?”

“…”

“I would want you to come with me, but— you’re happy here-“

“Eli—“

“—even when I _wasn’t_ here, Mantis. If you want to come with me… I mean, if you want to stay, I won’t stop you. In fact, you probably should stay. You should."

Mantis looked crestfallen. "You don't want me with you..."

"That's not what I'm saying and you know that, Mantis." Liquid reached out to touch Mantis' unmasked face, but he turned away. "...I'll miss you."

"You don't get to make this decision for me!" Mantis sank down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

"I'm not trying to! But I know that," _Ocelot has his claws deep in you._ "...you don't need me anymore. Of course, you're still in my head sometimes but—"

"You think we've grown out of our bond," Mantis mumbled bitterly.

Liquid sighed deeply. "We're not children anymore..."

"You've probably been looking for a chance to get rid of me—"

"Oh, shut up." Liquid crawled on top of him, pulling Mantis close, trying to kiss him. Mantis struggled against him weakly and so he only managed to nip at his jaw.

"I'm sorry," Mantis whispered.

"Stop apologising."

"But I— Eli, you don't want me to come with you but you don't want me to stay with Ocelot either. I don't understand—"

Finally Liquid managed to kiss him properly. "I just want you to be okay, happy."

"But I am! I was happy with the way things were and now—"

"...were you really?"

Mantis went silent against him, fingers digging into Liquid's back.

"...I'm not leaving until tonight, y'know?"

“I don’t want you to go,” Mantis whispered.

“I can’t stay here.”

“But then-“

“This is the best place for you. Just because I can’t stand to stay in Outer Heaven means I’ll hold it against you that you can.”

“Eli…”

Liquid held him close. Mantis squirmed, upset.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” he said, tears spilling over.

“You won’t. You aren’t,” Liquid promised. “Just because I quit Outer Heaven doesn’t mean I can’t contact anyone from here again. And if- if my biological father doesn’t like me sending letters, we can just go through Ocelot. I’m sure he’d help.”

“I don’t want to write letters…”

“Then I can come visit - if the new Boss still does those daytrips to Victoria. But I _can’t_ be here anymore, Mantis. I can’t. There’s nothing left for me here—“

“ _I’m_ here,” Mantis cried. “This is your home, Eli!”

“…not with Father dead it isn’t. Not anymore. Not when the man _responsible_ for his death’s coming to take his place.”

Mantis sat back, pushing him away. “Then I’ll come with you.”

“This is _your_ home, Mantis.”

"You're my home!" Mantis cried and balled his fists against Liquid's chest. "I've never known another!"

Liquid smiled sadly and hugged him closer again. "You would've never become the person you are now if it had just been the two of us. Mother Base made you who you are, you're—"

"Fine, then I'll stay here with Ocelot if you really think it's for the best."

Face turning pale, Liquid drew back. "Wait, no—"

Mantis bore his teeth at him in frustration. "What do you want from me, Eli?!"

“It— it doesn’t matter what I want! It’s your decision, Mantis. Whether to stay or to go.”

“How am I supposed to decide that?!”

“I don’t know, I just know I can’t decide for you!”

Mantis pushed him with an upset huff. Liquid, not knowing what else to do with himself, pushed him back. It turned into a tussle and ended with the two of them on the floor. Mantis felt like laughing but he just ended up crying again.

“I don’t know what I want,” he said. “I don’t want things to change. Everything was finally good. I was happy…”

“I was too,” Liquid mumbled.

Tears still running, Mantis started unbuttoning his uniform and climbed into Liquid's lap.

"On the floor? Really?" Liquid chuckled, but Mantis seemed determined as he kissed him, face sticky and wet.

"You said we still have some time left... I don't wanna waste it."

"I was thinking more along the lines of spending quality time together, talking about stuff and—"

Mantis bit him. "This _is_ quality time."

It was quick and urgent, desperate like the first times they had fumbled around with each other, leaving them both panting and exhausted in a pile until Liquid finally took pity and carried himself and Mantis to the bed.

There they didn't speak for a long while until Mantis finally broke the silence.

"Promise me we'll see each other again—"

Liquid kissed his head. "I promise.You come see me some time, too. Whatever you decide on."

They spent their last few hours together in the dark, just clinging to each other like scared children.

* * *

About forty-five minutes before the boat was set to leave, Wolf hammered on the door and shouted at Liquid that she’d heard he hadn’t emptied his locker into a bag yet. Liquid haphazardly put his clothes back in order and rushed off to his barracks. Mantis met Wolf at the door.

“I heard _you_ have not decided whether or not you are leaving yet,” she said.

Mantis shook his head. “Not really.”

“I think you only have fifteen more minutes to decide if you want to be on today’s boat.”

“You’re going too?”

“Of course I am.” Wolf had been uncharacteristically somber as of late, but Mantis supposed this was the new normal. “What did Liquid say?”

“What?”

“He thought you needed to hear his opinion on whether you should stay or go, no?”

“…I need to go talk to Ocelot.”

“You had better be there to see us off!” Wolf called after him as he walked away. Mantis waved.

Seeing Ocelot so… subdued was something that Mantis was not yet used to. “Ocelot?” he said.

The scratching of his pen against some random’s discharge paperwork stopped. “Yes, Bogomol? …have you come to secure your place on the boat to Tanzania?”

“No. I mean— …I don’t know.”

"Well, you should hurry up, there's not much time left. Liquid is leaving, you should go with him."

Mantis moved closer and hesitantly placed a hand on Ocelot's shoulder.

"What if I don’t want to go with him?"

Ocelot looked up from his work, eyes tired behind all the caffeine and drugs. "What are you talking about? Of course you're going."

"This is my home. With you."

"..."

"Ocelot, please—"

"The boat leaves in thirty minutes, I have the paperwork right here so you better hurry and sign it." Ocelot handed him a document that was already filled out with all the important bits and only lacking Mantis' signature.

"Do you want to get rid of me?" Mantis asked angrily, rejected and frustrated.

"If believing that will make you feel better – sure."

“That’s not an answer!”

“Do you want to go or not?” Ocelot said flatly, finally giving him his full attention.

“I don’t know!” Mantis cried. “You tell me to go, Eli says I should stay except when I started to agree with him he changed his mind—“

“He doesn’t want you with him?” Ocelot’s brow furrowed.

“That’s not it. He doesn’t want me with you. Except… he knows I’d… I’m… this is where I belong, Ocelot. Here. _With you._ ”

“Don’t be absurd,” Ocelot started.

“I don’t want to leave! I don’t want anybody to leave, I want things to go back to the way they were!!” Mantis felt pathetic, breaking down into a tantrum like a little boy, his last resort.

Ocelot kicked the desk, hard enough to shut Mantis up with a gulp. “You think _I_ don’t want that too?” he seethed. “But nobody can bring back the dead!” He put his hand over his face, deflating again, sinking back into dissociated misery. “If I could turn back time I would have started doing it long before _this_. You wouldn’t even _be_ here.”

“You want to get rid of me.”

“I want what’s best for you.”

"Ocelot..."

Mantis moved closer, placed his hand on Ocelot' shoulder gently and was surprised by the fact that the old man actually let himself be touched for once.

"Make a decision, please,” Ocelot murmured through gritted teeth.

"...I can't leave you alone like this."

"I don't need your pity, I've recovered from way worse things."

"Your love for him... for Big Boss..." Mantis started, leaning against him. "It transferred to Eli's father, he was just as important to you."

"You tend to love the things you make, things you create." Ocelot brushed him off. "It's nothing special."

"For you it is, for someone who claims he doesn't care about anything. You made me too, you know? You want me to disappear too?" Mantis felt weirdly calm, despite watching his hands shaking.

"What I or anyone else needs or wants isn't important. This is your choice, your life. I thought I'd taught you well enough to understand that you don’t have to stay or leave for anyone but yourself." Ocelot sighed and looked up at him. "You won't ever find happiness in others, Bogomol."

Mantis let go of him, feeling utterly defeated.

“The boat leaves in half an hour,” Ocelot reminded him. “You should go see Liquid.”

“I- I need to think.” He ran out before Ocelot could say anything else.

He thought, perhaps, that he should indeed go see Liquid again but couldn’t bear to right now. Instead he went up to the top of a tower where no one else could get to him. He sat, looking down at the bustle of Mother Base like ants below him. The ocean horizon stretched forth endlessly. Mantis wiped his tears and stared.

And for the first time, thought for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jeez can you believe I started writing this fic back in 2017
> 
> rubyfruitjungle note: thank u for reading and tagging along ♥️
> 
> thank you punishedpyotr for letting me bully you into writing, you did so well i am proud


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